


Tabaco y Brea

by mandoandyodito



Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Food, Hurt/Comfort, I hope you all like this because I love it, Jealousy, Lines in Spanish, MULTIPLE CHARACTERS SPEAK SPANISH, Multi, Oblivious, Requited Unrequited Love, Smut, but don't worry the translations are right after them, salsa - Freeform, this is so fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:00:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25657048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mandoandyodito/pseuds/mandoandyodito
Summary: It's Colombia, 1981. The war with Pablo Escobar is getting worse and worse by the day, and you and Javier Peña are right in the middle of it.But until you go down burning, both of you are going to enjoy Colombia as much as you can.(read the tags please!)
Relationships: Connie Murphy/Steve Murphy (Narcos), Javier Peña/Original Female Character(s), Javier Peña/Reader, Javier Peña/You
Comments: 15
Kudos: 48





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is a story that was initially posted on my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito) and you can find my masterlist [here](https://mandoandyodito.tumblr.com/post/620197538394472448/pedro-pascal-characters-click-the-image-for)
> 
> I hope you enjoy it, please leave a comment or kudos if you do!

Bogotá was a sight that you had yet to stop being amazed at. Walking through its streets for the first time all those months ago almost brought tears to your eyes. Growing up in the United States and thinking that you may never get out of there gave you little to no reference in this country’s culture, although your father being Mexican helped you master Spanish and he showed your way to dance. Early 1981 was not a great year to be in Colombia, but you were here as a DEA agent after all, not as a tourist. You could feel things getting bigger, and you weren’t sure how you’ll be able to handle it.

As you kept walking, you asked yourself the same question of your everyday life. Why the fuck did you choose to live so far away from the Embassy? 

(You knew the answer, but it didn’t make mornings easier)

The heat made your clothes cling to you with sweat, your hair even in a ponytail was soaked and the headache was just getting stronger the more you walked through the avenue. 

And you were late, dammit!

Your heels could be heard as you started to run to catch the bus, gripping your purse as if life depended on it. With the amount of money they paid you, you could easily afford a car, but attracting that much attention wasn’t a great idea. You still couldn’t understand how the narcos hadn’t managed to get your information. 

The bus was already at the bus stop when you turned the corner, and you didn’t know if you could make it. 

“ _Ey! Ey! Esperen!” (Hey! Hey! Wait!_ ) You started waving your hand towards it, seeing that the last person in line was hopping on. The driver, thankfully, saw you and waited. You started running faster and finally climbed the stairs. It was packed.

Well, it seemed that you’d go standing. 

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

You seriously didn’t think you could get more soaked from the heat, sweat even more than you already were.

You were wrong. 

When you got to the Embassy, the entire back of your shirt was plastered to your body. Your thighs were starting to get grazed because of your skirt and your hair was all frizzy and probably resembled a nest of birds. 

You took a deep breath, tried to fix your hair a little bit, and pushed the door. Nobody even glanced at you, and you were glad. If anybody dared to even look at you funny, you were going to lose it.

“ _Ey compañera. Mala mañana?” (Hey partner. Bad morning?)_

Oh, _just what you needed._

“¿ _Qué quieres Peña?” (What do you want Peña?_ ) you rolled your eyes at him. He didn’t look much better than you anyway. His pink shirt was sticking to his chest, even though he had several buttons open, letting you see his wet neck. His face was sweaty too, with rosy cheeks and his hair sticking to his forehead. 

You arched your eyebrow. “ _No tienes mucho mejor aspecto que yo Javier” (You don’t look much better than I do Javier)_

He gave a soft laugh, the idiot. You weren’t in the best of moods to handle him, so you turned around and walked to your desk, then sat down with a grump.

“ _Vamos nena, alégrate un poco” (Come on baby, lighten up a little)_ you glared at him and started reading through the papers you had to check today. It was usually yours and Javier’s, that asshole didn’t do any of his own paperwork and you were stuck doing both almost all the time. Carina had given you a weird stare the first time you were ranting about it to her, but you were sure you didn’t want to know what she was thinking. It was nothing that you didn’t know anyways.

Once he realized you were definitely not in the mood for your usual banter, he stopped and sat down in his desk, at the right from yours. Silence (or as much silence as an office can have) settled and the sounds of sheets of paper turning and Javi working with his typewriter slowly calmed you and helped you concentrate with what you were reading. The fan that barely provided you of fresh air at least served as background noise for the amount of stuff that your mind was processing, and it even cooled you down a little bit. The headache was gone and so was the bad mood. After some time had passed and you weren’t sweating as much as before, you asked yourself what on Earth was Javi doing if you had his paperwork at your desk.

“Hey Javi, what are you doing? At least have the decency to offer help!” you said as he turned to look at you. He smiled, noticing your mood improvement. Pulling his chair with him, he crossed the little space between your desks and opened the folder that he had been looking at.

“There’s the Bera I know” You tried to hide a smile at the nickname. “I got some intel that could help us with this bullshit”

His voice, all business know, gave you a sense of peace. Even if he was a little shit most of the time, he was the only one who had been with you since you arrived back in 1979. He didn’t have much more experience than you back then, had only been in Colombia for a couple of months himself, but he knew his way around better than you. He taught you the things you didn’t know, and if neither of you did then you figured them out together. 

“And what is that intel, agent Peña?” you teased him. You weren’t oblivious to his ways of fishing out info, of course. He smacked you lightly in the arm and showed you the papers.

“A cottage on the outside of Cali seems to be a type of safehouse for Escobar’s _merca_ ,” he says while pointing at the pictures that were inside the folder “if this is true, we need to do a raid soon, but we have to make sure the intel is right before we take that risk”

The cottage was small, nobody would pay attention to it if they were walking past. It looked like an abandoned house, and you knew that was exactly what Escobar’s men were hoping for. Although you were surprised they were stupid enough to have something even remotely close to a city, that didn’t sound right.

You nod, “so that means…?”

He looks at you with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“That means we need to stay for a few days in Cali, nena”

You have to grip your chair to physically restrain yourself from jumping of happiness. You loved Cali, the very few occasions you had free time you took a bus there (9 hours and all) and spent the nights in the dancing clubs. Cali gave you a sense of love and alleviated the homesick feeling that had been nagging you for years. It reminded you of your father even if this wasn’t his country. 

“Are you serious? Don’t play with me Javi” he nodded.

“You know I don’t play with this shit”, his voice sounded serious, almost offended.

He knew how much you enjoyed being there, but you also knew he took his work very seriously. In both cases, you doubted he would joke about something like that, but it was almost too good to be true to believe it that easily.

You started to plan things in your head. Where would you stay? Close to the cottage? Close to downtown Cali? Would you have any free time to enjoy the pleasures of Cali nights? You hoped so because if not you were going to explode.

“So when do we leave then?” you look him in the eyes, a grin spread big on your face. 

“It depends”, your smile fell. “We have to welcome the new _gringo_ , remember?”

Ugh, yes. You forgot about that. 

“So when does he arrive?" 

Javi shrugged. "I’m not sure, but it will be this or the next week.”

You weren’t sure if bringing someone else to this shitshow was a good idea. Enough lives have been lost to this war, and you didn’t see the point of putting at risk another one.

“Will we take him with us?”

“He’s not very good with Spanish"

Your smile returned, this time for entirely different reasons. “So we’re gonna have some fun with him?”

Javi looked at you, amusement in his eyes. He shook his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea _muñeca_ , he’s coming with his wife” _(doll)_

You got the message, even if he didn’t say it out loud. He has a family, something to lose. You don’t, not really. Besides your own lives, that is. If you want to play Russian roulette with them, it’s your problem. But the new guy had someone to come back to.

So, helping the _gringo_ it was.

“What’s his name again?” you ask. You had read about him a few weeks back when they told you he was coming. But you didn’t even remember he was coming, much less were you going to remember his name.

“Steve Murphy” Oh yeah, it sounded familiar now. “He did his training directly at Quantico, so he must be good”

That you remembered. He was one of those guys who spent the 18 weeks (although you knew they were only 13 if you did it there) of DEA training in Quantico, inside the U.S. Marine Corps Base and next to the FBI academy. They weren’t common here, you and Javi had done it elsewhere. 

“So after we pick him up, we plan this shit out, right?”

Javi nodded. “I hope so”

He went back to his desk and you kept going through the paperwork. It was not an easy task, but that one time you made Javier do his own, he had taken so much time to do it that you passed the deadline and the boss ripped you both a new one. After that, you did a silent agreement where you did it all, Javier providing all info necessary and taking the blame if anything was wrong, even if it didn’t happen frequently. He’d bring you Colombian coffee when the weather wasn’t as hot as now, he knew you didn’t like the one at the office and thought it “tasted like dirt”, he would listen to you rant about certain reports and say whatever he thought you needed to hear in those moments.

You enjoyed spending your time with him, even if most of it you were arguing about something. 

The day passed rather quickly, with so much to do you didn’t even have time to glance at your watch or even the clock hanging in the opposite wall.

Soon, it was time to leave again, but you hadn’t finished your work and it was due to a couple of days. You hated doing things just before delivery time, so you decided you were going to stay and work some more. It wasn’t like someone was waiting for you anyways.

Half of the work was done, so you weren’t going to stay much. Just enough so you could go back and finish tomorrow.

_“Ey compañera, hora de irnos” (Hey partner, time to go_ ) Javier sounded tired, and you figured trying to find leads and speaking all day with your superiors was exhausting too. You hated doing the calls, so he took that one for both of you. 

“ _No me iré Javi, debo avanzar un poco con esto" (I won’t leave Javi, I need to get ahead with this_ ) He frowned at you, with his beige jacket already in his hands. You figured you looked tired too, all day reading was doing an impact in your eyes.

"What do you mean you’re not leaving? You just spent 12 hours doing paperwork, you need to rest”

You sighed. He was right, you knew that, but you wouldn’t be able to finish if you didn’t stay. 

Seeing he wasn’t going to get an answer because you were stubborn and ignored him if you had already made a decision, he hung up his jacket again and pulled his chair close to your desk. Then, glaring at you, he sat down and propped his elbows in the table, letting his face fall between his hands.

A few minutes passed, and you were starting to get uneasy under the power of his stare.

“Javi? What are you doing?”

He didn’t answer.

“What?” you asked, defensively. “Do I have something on my face?" 

He shook his head, still not saying anything. 

"Javier!”

He started laughing at your bothered yell, finally releasing you from the pinned look he was giving you. You let out a frustrated sigh, understanding what were his intentions.

“You’re gonna glare me into leaving, aren’t you?”

His nod was your only answer, accompanied by a grin spread across his face.

The thing about your relationship was that even if you fought almost every day for the stupidest things, he took care of you. He made sure you got to rest, ate decent food, got home safe. He protected you in the raids, even if you weren’t his main focus. And you did your best to take care of him too, but he wouldn’t let you.

At least not like you wanted. 

He would go almost every weekend to search for the love you were so willing to provide for him in other women, in his so-called informants. And it hurt you, more than anything else. 

You smiled at him.

“Let’s go”

He smiled too, standing up. You saved your files in one of the drawers, took your coat, and rounded your desk.

Out of the office, everything was silent. The sun had already set, leaving you at the darkness of the night. You checked your watch. It was…11 PM already, damn. You didn’t know it was that late.

“I’ll drop you off at your home”, his voice was soft.

You nodded, not trusting your voice. Everything with Javi was difficult at night. You were looser because of the tiredness, fed up with everything. You wished to be between his arms, it was the only thing you asked for. But you knew you couldn’t.

Both of you climbed into his Jeep, and he drove off to your apartment. 

“Why did you choose to live far from the Embassy anyways?”

He had asked the same question a thousand times before, and it was always the same answer. He never looked at you when he said it, his attention straight out the windshield. You couldn’t figure out why he kept doing it, no matter how much you tried, no matter how much time you spent thinking about it.

“I wanted to get to know Colombia, not just the stuffy low-rise bunker in the basement of the U.S. embassy.”

Once you got to the apartment complex, he parked his car and stretched to open your door. 

“Good night _compañera_ ” (partner)

You smiled in response, took your purse, and jumped out of the car. Feeling his stare boring into your back as you walked to the door, you got out your keys and turned around. 

Once you waved him goodbye, he bowed his head and turned on the engine leaving with a creak of tires.

“Good night Javi” 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the new partner arrives

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo! I hope you enjoy this. If you want to scream at me or with me, here is my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito)

The days passed faster than you would have liked. With so much paperwork added for the Cali mission, you stayed late almost every day. Javi, in an unexpected change of events, stayed with you. He didn’t do shit, of course, but his company was comforting. He would softly hum songs sometimes, or get out a book and read it out loud to you. 

The night before, he had been singing the _Rocky_ soundtrack for most of it, turning to _Led Zeppelin_ when he finished. You still remember how after you heard on the radio that John Bonham had been found dead in September 1980, he had left the office for a second and stayed in complete silence outside. 

And then again in December, when they announced they were going to split. You never mentioned it, and you knew he wouldn’t admit it even with a gun pointed at his head, but you were sure you had seen a tear run down his cheek. He was a huge fan, apparently.

Tonight, he was reading _Cien Años de Soledad (One Hundred Years of Solitude)_ , by Gabriel García Márquez. You loved that author, but you weren’t sure if you had ever mentioned it to him. Maybe he knew you enough to figure it out without the need of hearing it straight from your mouth.

“ _José Arcadio Buendía, que era el hombre más emprendedor que se vería jamás en la aldea, había dispuesto de tal modo la posición de las casas, que desde todas podía llegarse al río y abastecerse de agua con igual esfuerzo, y trazó las calles con tan buen sentido que ninguna casa recibía más sol que otra a la hora del calor.” (José Arcadio Buendía, who was the most enterprising man ever to be seen in the village, had set up the placement of the houses in such a way that from all of them one could reach the river and draw water with the same effort, and he had lined up the streets with such good sense that no house got more sun than another during the hot time of day. )_

His voice was very soothing to you, even more when he was speaking Spanish. You didn’t know if he had noticed, but it got more raspy and deep when he changed languages. It reminded you of the summers spent in México with your father, when he would tell you stories about his childhood in México City or the trips he would do to Nuevo Laredo with your grandma.

He stopped reading for a second and you looked up to see why was that just to find him already staring at you.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, not wanting to tell him you were enjoying his reading.

“Do you like this book?”

You nodded, a slight blush spreading in your cheeks. You tended not to give him compliments, his ego was big enough as it was without you contributing, but you figured this one wouldn’t hurt.

“He’s one of my favorite authors.”

He smiled. “I figured”

“You brought that one because you thought I’d like it?”

It was just teasing, of course. You didn’t think he’d do such a gesture for you, and the idea of him knowing you so well scared you a little bit.

He ignored you and kept going. “ _En pocos años, Macondo fue una aldea más ordenada y laboriosa que cualquiera de las conocidas hasta entonces por sus 300 habitantes. Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto.” ( Within a few years Macondo was a village that was more orderly and hard working than any known until then by its three hundred inhabitants. It was a truly happy village where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died.)_

You stopped working for a moment, listening to the words he was saying instead. 

Did he know how sexy his voice was? How good he sounded? He was one of the smartest people you knew, and you had been to enough places and met enough people to say that with confidence. His mind was sharp, could run 10 miles per minute if the situation required it.

He noticed you were staring and stopped again. His frown got more pronounced, looking at you intrigued.

“What are you looking at?” his tone was defensive. He didn’t like it when you stared at him too long, it felt like you could see straight through him, and there were some things he didn’t want you to know.

You shook your head and laughed. “You look tired”

With a shrug, he returned his eyes to the book, but you stretched your arm to stop him. 

“Now what?”

You took the book from his hands and placed a clean sheet of paper from your desk between the pages he had been reading and closed it. With a soft sound, you let it fall on top of the table.

“It’s getting late, we should go”

He straightened, surprised. Usually, he was the one to prey you away from all the paperwork. If he didn’t stay with you, he would probably find you there still working the next morning.

“ _You_ are telling _me_ we should leave?”

You nodded.

“Quick, before I change my mind.”

At that, he stood up like a spring and started collecting his things. You chuckled as you saved the files on the drawer and put your jacket on.

“Let’s go”

Two days later, he approached you without no greeting and in a very bad mood.

“The _gringo’s_ here”

_What a great way to start the morning_ , you thought.

“Weren’t we supposed to pick him up or something?”

Javi shook his head. He seemed frustrated, but you didn’t know if it was about the arrival of your new partner or something else. With Javi, you could never guess.

His shoulders were tense, the beige suit he was wearing along with the striped tie and his yellow aviators made him look older and more serious. Had he dressed up to meet the new guy? Really?

“I’m gonna meet him outside at the Embassy’s parking lot, wait here”

You nodded and kept filling the paperwork for the Cali raid as he left. You were going to take the new guy with you. You couldn’t just dump him, he wasn’t brought here to sit around and watch from the sidelines.

You just hoped he did his work.

A few minutes passed when you heard a pair of footsteps walking through the corridor.

“We’re going to Medellín?”

That _definitely_ wasn’t Javi.

You stood up, turning around to the voice at your back. 

You had to suppress a laugh once you took a glance at them.

Their suits were almost the same color, Javi’s just a shade darker. Steve Murphy was wearing a light blue shirt along with a navy blue tie, had a mustache similar to Javi’s too (but it made him look weird, if you were honest). His hair was dark blonde, combed to one side, and his face gave away a little nervousness. He was also taller than Javi, meaning you had to crank your neck up to meet his eyes.

“Murphy this is Bera. Bera, Murphy.” Javi pointed at you as Steve shook your hand. His hold was strong, and he squeezed with enough force to be firm but not enough to hurt you. That came appreciated, every single man who met you always treated you as if you were made of porcelain. 

You glared at Javi and told Steve your real name, then clarified, “But everyone calls me Bera" 

"Bera?” he asked. You smiled in return. 

“Long story, you’ll get to know it later”

He smiled too, and they left for the ambassador’s office. 

As it was everyone’s knowledge at the Embassy, she didn’t like Javi very much, so you dealt with it when you had to ask her for something. She had a soft spot for you, you guessed it was because she knew how hard it was to be a woman in this line of work. Maybe she didn’t like him because of his methods of getting info, you weren’t sure.

Once they got out, Javi stood up behind his desk and started moving the few papers he had there. You wondered how he managed to have such a mess considering he only read intel, made calls and left you with everything else.

“ _Ahora qué se te perdió Peña?” (What did you loose now Peña?)_

He glared at you and kept moving his papers. His actions were getting desperate, frustration from before about who knows what affecting him.

Murphy was looking back and forth between the two of you, standing awkwardly between your desks. You didn’t know if he had understood what you said, but judging by his face, you guessed he hadn’t.

_“Recuerdas la informante de la que te hablé?” (Remember the informant I told you about?“_

You rolled your eyes. Of course you remembered, he had been seeing her frequently over the past few weeks. He wasn’t one to be constant about his hookups, but apparently, she was good enough to keep a streak with him. He hadn’t seen her since you had been staying late, but last night you had left early and he went straight to search for her. You didn’t have to be a genius to guess what had happened when he found her.

"Helena Sotomayor?” you asked, venom filling your voice. You didn’t have anything against her or what she did, but jealousy wasn’t something you could avoid easily, especially if you knew how Javier felt about her.

“ _Si_ " his voice got deeper as he got angrier, ” _habrá una reunión de narcos en Medellín, y se irá a la fiesta que harán después"_

( _Yes, there’s gonna be a reunion of narcos in Medellín, and she’s leaving for the party they’re hosting after_ )

“And what? You can’t get another girl for the night?” you snarled, your tone hard and resentful. Steve looked at you with his eyes wide open, subconsciously getting closer to Javi.

“It’s not about that!” Javier raised his arms exasperated, “you don’t seem to understand. There’s gonna be a _meeting_ with different leaders of cartels, and they’re surely planning something”

You scoffed, “yeah idiot, I get that! What I mean is what the hell are you searching for that has to do with her?”

Suddenly his back straightened, and you knew you weren’t going to like what he was gonna say next.

“I need to fill a visa request for her”

You felt how your face got red and warmth spread through your body, filling it with jealousy and anger. Your eyes crossed with his and suddenly it had turned into yet another one of your fights. _So that’s what was bothering him._

Steve looked at Javi, alarmed. 

“Is your informant really a prostitute?”

Javi didn’t even look at him, “Everybody works for somebody”

You abruptly stood up and took your jacket off of your chair’s back, walking fast towards the exit.

“ _A dónde carajos vas?” (where the fuck are you going?)_ he screamed, fisting his hands at his sides.

You turned around and showed him the finger.

“It’s none of your fucking business!”

Javier and Steve stood there as you left, stunned. Your heels making a clicking sound that resonated in the office. Javier was used to your fighting and your screaming, it was part of your dynamic, but he didn’t understand why you had reacted so bad this time. Sure, he knew you weren’t fond of his way of finding intel, but you never really did more than glare or tease. This was new.

“Is it always like this with you two?” Steve asked. Javi moved his head from side to side, crinkling his eyes.

“A little less explosive, but yes”

Steve let out a sigh. This was going to be some long couple of months (or years?) for him, he just knew it.

As you walked, your eyes started to fill with tears, but you didn’t know if it was out of rage or hurt. You were not one to cry, so you wiped them before they fell and rounded the corner to the right towards the diner you usually ate at.

Once you crossed the street and rounded another corner to the left, in the middle of the street was a big sign that spelled Salomé in cursive. You got inside and sat down at the table from the corner, taking out the money of your jacket’s pocket. Catalina (or Cata), the cute old lady that managed it, smiled at you from the counter and walked towards you. You smiled back, doing your best to conceal your feelings.

“ _Qué hace mi niña preciosa aqui?” (what is my precious girl doing here?_ ) . Her voice was soft, filled with affection. His tone was motherly and you knew she had noticed something was wrong.

You smiled sadly at her. “ _Solo tengo hambre”( I’m just hungry )_

Cata immediately sat down in the chair across you and took your hands between hers. She heard something off in your voice, and she didn’t like it one bit.

“ _Ahora qué hizo ese chamaco malcriado?” (What did that spoiled brat do now?)_ Her tone changed to playful but angry in a matter of seconds, her frown accentuated even more than it already was by her age.

You shook your head, laughing. Cata was also very fond of Javi, but she knew how much of an idiot he could be. Surprisingly, you had met her before he had, one time you were hungry and the food at the Embassy didn’t sound very appealing to your ears or stomach.

“ _Nada Catita, ya sabes cómo es” (Nothing Catita, you know how he is_ ). You tried to smile and she cupped your head between her hands, caressing your face with his thumb. You put your hand above hers and gave it a soft squeeze.

“ _Qué quiere comer mi niña?” (What do you want to eat my girl?)_

A grin spread across your cheeks. “ _Ajiaco con pollo, porfa.” (Ajiaco with chicken, please. it’s a typical food in Colombia, commonly found in Bogotá. It consists of shredded chicken, pastusa, sabanera and/or creole potato, corn and maybe cream milk)_

She nodded and stood up, sadness forgotten for a moment.

“ _Con aguacate y arroz aparte?” (with avocado and rice aside?)_

You nodded eagerly. “ _Sabes que si” (you know it)_

The curtains hiding the kitchen opened to her as she walked inside to cook your food. Your heart warmed and clenched a little at how much love she showed you every time you came here, how she genuinely cared for you.

The tablecloth was made of white lace, and you passed your fingers through the surface. It felt gritty to the touch, but its beauty completely overshadowed it. Cata had gifted you one to take home once, and it was now decorating your little table at the living room in the apartment.

The noises of Bogotá surrounded you. It was easy to hear children playing and their mothers screaming at them; people selling fruits, clothes, arguing and laughing. People doing their best to keep living, even with the crisis they were dealing with, the number of narcos that were raising and how much hell they were surely about to unleash in this beautiful country.

It was your job to stop them, to do your best at helping these people get their normal lives back. 

The sound of Cata approaching took you out of your thoughts.

“ _Aquí está mi dulce niña, justo como le gusta” (here it is my sweet girl, just how you like it)_

You took the plate of food and tilted your head, thankful. “ _Gracias Cata” (thank you Cata)_

You quickly set your spoon to the food and as you took the first bite, everything you were worried about banished for a second. Javier, the DEA, Escobar, Steve, everything flew out the window.

That’s why you had come, because everything could be forgotten for a moment if you choose the right dish to stuff your mouth with.

Cata laughed at your eagerness, patting your shoulder with her soft hand. “ _Tranquilícese muñequita, que la comida no se le va a ir” (Calm down little doll, the food is not going to get away)_

With your mouth full you could only nod, giving her an apologetic smile. She shook her head, eyes soft as they looked at you.

The rest of your meal was spent in silence, his presence comforting to your aching heart. She knew when to speak and when to stay silent, you always talked when you wanted to and it was pointless to try and make you.

Once you finished, you took a napkin and cleaned your mouth, handing her much more money than the food cost. She immediately gave it back to you, shaking her head.

“ _no no mi niña, llévese eso.” (no no my girl, take that away)_

Standing up, you took her hand and placed the money in her palm. 

“ _Yo no lo necesito Catita” (I don’t need it Catita)_ With a kiss to the top of her head, you swiftly got out of there, her sigh reaching your ears as you walked back to the Embassy. 

You felt much lighter, the pain in your chest gone and your muscles relaxed. You entered the building and walked down the stairs to the basement, heading straight to your desk. Javi was sitting at his, filling what you guessed was the visa request for Helena. You didn’t give it importance, sitting down at your chair and stripping off your jacket. The office was getting hot again, so you tied your hair up in a ponytail and started working as if nothing had happened.

Steve gives you a funny look from his seat between your desks. He won’t have his own for at least a week, so either you let him use part of yours or Javier will.

You pray he’s an organized person and wave at him.

“Come on Miami, get over here”

He sits straight and gives you a visual similar to a puppy being called, then stands up to pull his chair to sit across you. His desk will probably be on the opposite wall of yours anyway, may as well get used to his face.

“Do you need help with anything?”

His words sound like heaven in your ears, and you’re sure your eyes even sparkle a little bit. _Finally_ , someone is going to help you.

“Could you help me fill these formats, please? I’m sure you know how to”

He laughs a little and takes the bunch of documents you’re handing him, nodding. He never liked doing paperwork either but didn’t hate it as much as Peña seemed to do. He can’t help but think that leaving you with everything is too much of a dick move and decides to help you as much as he can from now on.

Both of you start to work without another word, the air feeling a little tense now that Steve feels like less of a stranger at the office. He can’t do much about the rigidness between the two of you, though.

Javier raises his head from the request he’s filling out and a pang on his chest makes itself present once he gets a good look at the scene in front of him.

In all the time he’s known you, he has never seen you so relaxed while working. Your cheeks are flushed from the heat that’s enveloping the entire place, strands of hair falling to your face as you’re bent over whatever document you’re working on. Your shoulders are less tense than he’s seen in weeks, and he can even see a faint smile forming at your lips. Steve is reading through the papers you gave him, his posture loose and easy.

With new people, you’re usually slow to warm up to, you hate anyone who isn’t him getting close at your workplace, and even then you’re hesitant. Despite this, you seem to be getting used to Murphy pretty quickly, and the thought creates a knot right at the center of his stomach. 

He shakes the thought out of his head and keeps working on the visa request, but he can’t shake the warm, burning feeling that has spread all over his body.

The day goes quickly, with Murphy helping you with everything you ask for and things getting easier between you two. With every laugh and joke the two of you exchange, Javier feels his body get hotter and hotter, but refuses to acknowledge it. 

Soon it’s time to leave and for the first time in weeks, you don’t need to stay late.

“ _Vamonos compañera” (let’s go partner)_ Javier says, but his words come out hard and tense.

It only gets worse when you shake your head as you stand up.

“ _Hoy no Javier, tomaré el colectivo” (not today Javier, I’m taking the bus)_

He grits his teeth and fists his hands at his sides but otherwise nods. He takes his jacket off the rack and rounds his desk, waiting for you and Steve to walk in front of him.

As the three of you get out of the building,the sun has barely set and it’s a good change from the pitch black night you had gotten used to. You bid each other goodbye and he silently watches how you walk alongside Murphy through the alley with a clenching heart and a hot face, jumping into his Jeep and closing the door with much more force than necessary.

“ _pinche gringo” (fucking gringo)_ he mutters as he drives away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please leave a comment or kudo if you liked it!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> things are starting to get more intense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love this chapter, I hope you like it too. Keep in mind this has rape references in some parts, please skip those if you need to.  
> If you ever wanna scream at me or with me, here is my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito)

Colonel Horacio Carrillo is waiting for you at the Carlos Holguin School, his base of operations, once you get to Medellín. Javi drives you all in the OGV (this time a white Van) with you in the back and Steve riding shotgun. Javier gets out, you and Steve rounding the car as the Colonel greets him.

“ _La inteligencia que me diste estaba en su punto. Los traquetos se van a reunir en las Margaritas” (Your intel was good. The traquetos (drug dealers) are gathering in Las Margaritas_ )

You still can’t figure out how Javier was able to convince the Ambassador to let all of you come without more than a day’s notice.

You get closer, Carrillo turning his head towards your direction. Javier sighs.

“I want you to meet our new DEA, Steve Murphy”

The Colonel smirks. “ _Carne fresca” (Fresh meat)_

Both look at each other, and you roll your eyes. 

“ _No sea idiota coronel” (Don’t be an idiot colonel)_

Steve, once again, looks at you surprised. He may not speak Spanish but he’s sure he knows what idiota means.

Horacio laughs at your comment and lets a heavy hand fall on your shoulder. “ _No sea llorona Bera, hay que darle una buena bienvenida al nuevo!” (Don’t be a crybaby Bera, we have to give the new guy a good welcome!)_

You shrug off his hand and get closer to Murphy in a protective stance. He’s a good guy, that much you’ve noticed with so little time he’s spent with you. Steve bumps you playfully as if saying thank you. You bump him back.

After that, everyone climbs into their respective cars and drive straight to the fancy hotel where the narcos meeting was going to be held.

You get a room along with the three of them, your Canon AE-1 hanging heavy on your neck as you climb up the stairs. Steve has a Fujica, and you guess he will be taking as many photos as he can. You’ll try and do the same, but the ones you’re taking will be staying with you and his are going to the ID guys.

Steve gets closer to the window and immediately starts snapping pictures as the narcos keep coming and getting out of their fancy vehicles. You do the same, but from the other angle.

You can see Carlos Lehder, the Ochoa brothers (and you now realize this probably has to do something with her sister being kidnapped) and Fernando Galeano “The Wolfman”, but you’re surprised when Gonzalo Rodriguez Gacha “The Mexican” gets out of another car, his face not very happy as they close the red door behind him.

“Is that Gacha?” Javi asks. You nod beside him, his voice sounding as surprised as you feel.

“I’ve never seen him with other traffickers”

The colonel is right, of course. Gacha is known for being a lone man regarding business, a paranoid man who doesn’t trust anyone. Him being there doesn’t mean anything good.

Finally, Pablo Escobar and Gustavo Gaviria arrive in a brown Mercedes convertible. Horacio orders Steve to take pictures of him and something urges you to answer that you’re not his soldiers to be bossed around, but keep your mouth shut.

Reluctantly, you admit in your insides that the intel Javi got from Helena was great, and you can feel in your guts that something big is going down today.

Hours pass and you realize that the meeting is over once the hookers are called up. The four of you get out and drive to the meeting point with Helena, and even if you’re not very fond of her you pray that she’s okay and got the work done.

-

“She should be here by now”

Javier is pacing outside with Carrillo standing beside one of the cars, Steve partially lying on the front while you’re inside with your head hanging out the window.

“You think she slipped?”

Javi shakes his head. “Nah, she’s no dummy”

Horacio bends over the car’s chest and laces his fingers together. “Maybe she’s getting pretty for you”

You snort and Javi gives you a dirty look but nods towards him. “Yeah”

More time passes, and if you’re honest you’re starting to get worried for the girl. One of Carrillo’s men gets close to him and mutters something that makes your heart sink to the bottom of your stomach.

“ _Vimos a la chica irse hace un buen rato” (we saw the girl leaving a long time ago)_

You open the door and jump off, getting close to them as Carrillo speaks to Javi.

“They’re telling me the girl left a long time ago, she’s already dead”

Your partner looks concerned as he kneads his shoulder, a frown well pronounced showing in his face. He turns around and shakes his head.

“No, they wouldn’t kill her at the hotel”

“Then they killed her somewhere else, she knew the risks” you hate how nonchalant Horacio sounds, how easy he speaks about an innocent girl being dead because she decided to help you.

“If we’re going back, we go back now” Steve intervenes, and you’re grateful he has more human sense than Horacio. 

Javi gets close to him, muttering, “ _Necesito que la encuentres” (I need you to find her)_

Horacio gives him a look, but answers. “ _Conozco un sicario, si te interesa. Quieres?” (I know a sicario, if you’re interested. You OK with that?)_

Your blood runs cold as Javi nods, “ _yo voy” (I’ll go with you)_

You get close to both of them and grip Javi’s arm. “ _Yo iré contigo también” (I’ll go with you too)_

Before Javi begins his protest, Carrillo points towards Steve. 

“ _Qué hacemos con Carne Fresca?” (What do we do with Fresh Meat?)_

Javi glares at you. “ _Necesito que te quedes con él” (I need you to stay with him)_

Disagreeing, you shake your head and move ahead of him. Horacio looks at how you walk towards his vehicle with a grin on his face, and you hear Javi telling Steve something from the distance.

Shortly after, they’re following after you and climb into the car. 

-

You get to the place where the sicario is supposed to be and decide to stay inside the car as Javi and Carrillo along with one of his men go up to a balcony.

Even if you’re not there, the sounds of a man getting chocked with a plastic bag reach your ears and Carrillo’s voice shouting drowns them a little bit. 

You clench your eyes shut as footsteps can be heard and shortly after, a gunshot resonates through the night. 

The sicario must have said something interesting because, without a word, both of them climb into the car and drive like crazy to another part of the city.

Horacio hits the brakes out of nowhere and the tires squeal in protest. Javier turns to look at you from the copilot seat, frowning.

“ _No me quedaré aqui Javier, ni lo pienses” (I won’t stay here Javier, don’t even think about it)_

He lets out an exasperated sigh and gets out, his grip hard on the gun at his hands. 

Carrillo’s men go first, getting rid of the ones guarding the entrance. Then, Horacio goes on the other side, with Javi after him and you close behind. You climb the stairs silently, as close to the wall as the small space lets you, one of the soldiers leads you upstairs.

Chaos ensues when he fires, and shouts can be heard all over the place. Javier and Horacio start shooting the men quickly and soon it’s only you who are there. You turn around to Javi, and nausea invades your senses.

Helena is lying there, naked and beaten as she whimpers. Her face is bloody and bruises are starting to form all over her body. You have to cover your mouth to keep a gasp from escaping. You’re amazed at how beautiful she is, even after all of this, and a sense of admiration fills your chest. 

Javier takes off his vest and kneels to cover her with it. With tender hands, he holds her face and says her name.

“Helena? It’s me”

She doesn’t answer, and you can feel the guilt already eating at Javi.

“ _Te voy a sacar de aquí okay? Te lo prometo” (I’m going to take you out of here okay? I promise)_

He lifts Helena in his arms and you trail behind him with your gun held up, Horacio walking behind you.

Nobody says a word as he takes her to the ambulance and you drive off to the hospital. Carrillo talks to his men by radio, telling them where you’re heading to and orders them to go there. Steve is still with them, so you guess you’ll find him there too.

You get to the hospital and Javi takes her to the ER, but they don’t let him go inside. Before his temper gets you in trouble, you put your hand on his shoulder and speak.

“ _Yo soy su hermana” (I’m her sister)_

They nod without any protest and let you go inside with them. Javier sees you go and cocks his head in a silent thanks. 

Half an hour passes before anything else happens, but a doctor gets close to you in the waiting room to tell you she’s stable.

“ _Puede entrar a verla si lo desea, está consciente” (You can go see her if you want to, she’s conscious)_

You nod and smile at her, “ _muchas gracias, iré en seguida”_ ( _thank you very much, I’ll go straight away)_

Standing up, your muscles protest for being tense for so long, and you walk to the room the doctor pointed at.

Slowly, you open the door trying to avoid disturbing her, but her head turns towards your direction once a creaking sound echoes through the room.

“ _Hola Helena_ ”, you greet her, “ _soy Bera, la compañera de Javier” (Hello Helena, I’m Bera, Javier’s (DEA) partner)_

Your voice is soft, and you try to be as careful as possible so as not to startle her. You walk to his side and sit down at the chair beside his bed. She tries to give you a smile, but it becomes a pained expression caused by the bruises in her face.

“ _Tú eres Bera, eh?” (So you’re Bera, uh?)_ her voice is hoarse, probably because she screamed at some point. Your heart clenches at that. 

_“Si, soy yo. Cómo te sientes?” (Yes, it’s me. How are you feeling?)_

You feel stupid just as the words leave your mouth. How is she supposed to feel after what she just went through?

Despite this, she chuckles. “ _Como mierda, pero sobreviviré” (Like shit, but I’ll survive)_

A strained smile reaches your lips. She’s a strong woman, that much you can notice. Regret invades your throat at how unjustified your resentment towards her was.

“ _Me aseguraré de que salgas de este país, te lo juro” (I’ll make sure you get out of this country, I swear)_

She doesn’t say anything but nods, grateful. An awkward silence covers the room but you don’t want to leave her alone. The smell of desinfectant makes your nose itch, spots in the curtains making you uncomfortable. The covers of her bed are completely pristine though, and that reassures you a little.

Just as she’s about to fall asleep again, she mutters something.

“ _Eres muy especial para Javier, sabías?” (You’re very special to Javier, you know?)_

Her words leave you speechless, and she keeps going at the lack of an answer.

“ _Contrario a lo que pareces pensar, yo no significo mucho para él. Nada más allá de una amistad tal vez” (Contrary to what you seem to think, I don’t mean much to him. Nothing more than a friendship maybe)_ Her words have an undertone of bitterness, and you open your mouth to speak but no words come out.

_“Siempre que yo intentaba algo más con él, me rechazaba. Al principio pensé que era porque simplemente no estaba interesado en una relación,”_ she shrugs, the movement tense and clearly painful “ _pero aquella vez que me estaba cogiendo y dijo tu nombre? supe que era porque ya le pertenecía a alguien” (Every time I tried something with him, he rejected me. At first, I thought he just wasn’t interested in a relationship, but that one time he was fucking me and he said your name? I knew it was because he was already someone else’s)_

You freeze, partially because of how easy she speaks about it and partially because of the actual words that just left his mouth.

“ _Yo-Yo no-no..” you stutter, “estás segura de que dijo mi nombre?”_ ( _I-I don’t-don’t… are you sure that he said my name?)_

She chuckles at that. “ _Pues me acabas de decir que tú eres Bera, y si lo susurra en mi oído cuando se está corriendo no hay manera de que haya escuchado mal” (Well you just told me that you’re Bera, and if he whispers it at my ear when he’s coming there’s no way I heard it wrong)_

Heat spreads through your cheeks and a flutter forms in your stomach at the (frankly hot) thought of Javi thinking about you as he came. But you don’t know if it means what you’d like, there’s no way to make sure unless Javi straight up tells you and he doesn’t even know you know.

You start freaking out in your head. Does he feel the same way about you? Was it just the heat of the moment? Are you gonna do anything about it? Why hasn’t he said anything!?

Ultimately, you decide not to do anything about it. If he wanted you to know he would have told you already. The thought hurts, but you can’t do much.

You get out a pen from your jacket, rip a piece of paper from the notes at the bedside table and write your real name and the phone number from your house as well as your office one, handing it to Helena.

“ _Si alguna vez necesitas algo, llámame” (If you ever need something, call me)_

She takes it from your hand and nods, folding it under her pillow. You stand up and go towards the door, but just as you’re about to get out, she speaks.

“ _Asegurate de que Javier esté bien” (Make sure Javier stays well)_

Warmth spreads all over your body at her tone. You’re sure she doesn’t mean “keeping him safe”. Regardless of this, you nod.

“ _Siempre”(Always)_

You close the door behind you and walk outside the hospital, conviction in every single one of your steps.

Javier is leaning in the bar at the streetside, Steve standing in front of him. It looks as if they just fought about something, Carrillo sitting at a chair behind Steve.

“I hope you know what that means” it’s the only thing you get to hear from the argument.

Javi then hands him a beer just as he walks towards the corner store, Steve taking a gulp of it. You get close to him and grab his arm.

“I’m sorry for leaving you behind”, you say. “I’m sure you didn’t come all the way down here to just sit around and watch from the sidelines”

Both Carrillo and he snort at your comment, leaving you perplexed. Were they talking about that before you came?

“It’s okay Bera, not your fault”, his posture understanding as he grabs your hand and squeezes. 

You smile and turn to Javier. “She’ll be fine. I’ll help you get her the visa”

Javier nods. “ _Gracias” (thank you)_

You go buy a soda and the three of you drink in silence for a moment.

“ _Qué sigue de esto, equipo Torbellino?” (What goes after this, Whirlpool team?)_ Carrillo breaks the silence from his seat. He smirks at you and you roll your eyes at the nickname he gave to both you and Javier, but repress a smile and you turn towards him.

The night starts to weight down on you, the events of the day catching up with your body. In spite of this, you straighten up at the change of subject and your breath comes out easier than before.

“ _A Cali”_ Javi says. ( _To Cali)_

You smile. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudo if you liked it!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the calm before the storm has the form of empanadas

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this! I hope you enjoy it.  
> If you ever wanna talk, or ask something or scream at me, here is my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito).

Connie must be a saint if she has put up with this idiot for years.

“Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

This is probably the tenth time you ask Steve this, but judging by how he fidgets with his hands and rolls his marriage ring every single time, he’s not sure about his answer, even though it’s always the same. You can see his nervousness as he sits in front of your desk again.

“I’ve told you I am! Could you quit it already?”

To say your relationship with him developed a lot in the last few weeks is an understatement. You started to like him the second he helped you with paperwork but now that you know him more you realize he’s a perfect balance that you and Javier needed. He’s as crazy as you are, maybe even more, but at least he doesn’t get to screaming match with either of you two.

Not yet, at least.

Your partner doesn’t seem to have accepted him completely still. Every time you’re working on your desk with Murphy, Javier huffs and rolls his eyes. Each time you try and include him in your new dynamic, he waves it off and says he has “better things to do”. He narrows his eyes and presses his lips together when the two of you laugh about some idiot joke Steve said and a voice at the back of your head tells you it has something to do with the things Helena said to you, but you shrug it off. Diving too deep into those thoughts will only make things worse.

Despite this, you and Javier haven’t fought so much the last couple of days, Steve interfering when things start to get heated. He stands between the two desks holding his arms up towards each of you as if either of you were about to jump the other. It’s a funny visual, needless to say. He’s the tallest of the three, so he towers above your heads and tries to calm you down.

Despite this, you can’t help being a little protective over him. 

“Steve, we’re going _undercover_ , not shooting our way in”

He’s a little hotheaded himself, that much you’ve realized from the stories he has told you about his job in Miami. And you may be quick to go into fight mode, but only when you see there’s no other option. Javier, surprisingly, is the calmest. Who would’ve thought?

Steve groans, exasperated. He lets his head fall back and grabs at his hair, pulling slightly. Javier snickers at his reaction.

“Relax _gringo_ , she’s just pushing your buttons”

Well, he’s not entirely wrong. Steve lifts his head to look at you with a raised eyebrow. You give him a sheepish smile and shrug.

“I might be, but your Spanish is shit and we need to speak a lot in it for this mission”

At that, Javi loses it, throws his head back laughing and grabs his belly with both hands, stamping his feet at the floor. You snort, trying not to laugh at the offended look Steve is giving you, his cheeks red with embarrassment and his arms crossed over his chest.

A glint of mischief appears in his eyes accompanied by a half sided grin.

“I will be staying at the hotel, remember? You and Javi are going to the dance club”

Javi doesn’t seem to give a shit about his comment and keeps laughing his ass off. 

You're not sure if Steve had realized about your feelings, he hadn’t said anything directly to you yet. He made comments insinuating it, teased you about the “lust-filled” eyes you’d give Javi in the middle of an argument, but he had never asked you or mentioned it straight up. If he had, you couldn’t help but think how ironic it was that everyone that got semi-close to your relationship could figure it out so quickly and Javi hadn’t in the nearly two years you’ve been partners.

You feign annoyance by letting out a groan and hitting your head with your desk, but the truth is a knot makes its way in your stomach at the mere thought of going to a dance club with Javi.

“He doesn’t even know how to dance!”

“Hey! I do know how to dance!”

He does, you just like teasing him about it. He demonstrated his skills pretty well at your first year’s Christmas party, with one of the good-looking girls that the soldiers from the academy invited. It was an initiation of sorts for both of you, at one of the officers’ houses close to the base. After dancing with almost all of the girls there, the soldiers dared Javi to take shots of Aguardiente and he was too happy to accept. Hours later, he was sick as fuck and spent the night throwing up at the communal bathroom. He woke you up as he started dry heaving, and you stayed with him until the sickness passed and took him to his room, all sweaty and green. You don’t think he remembers a single moment of it.

Steve shakes his head, smiling. You smile too.

“Yeah, two-step, you good Texan boy. That doesn’t come in handy this time though”

Javi gives him the finger by way of answer. You break down in laugher, covering your mouth to lower the noise. Javi may be skeptical about Murphy, but they banter like an old married couple already. At least their dynamic isn’t as explosive as yours, theirs is easier going.

“You’re gonna enjoy yourself one way or another Bera, don’t play dumb” Javi says, amusement dripping from his voice. You shrug with a barely concealed grin in your face. Steve frowns at you.

“What do you mean?”

Javi turns to look at him, shaking his hands in front of his face.

“She goes there every weekend she can!” he raises his arms over his head and you have to bite your lip to not start laughing again “She takes the bus on Friday night, which is a _7 fucking hours long trip_ and stays there until Sunday night and leaves for _another 7 hours long trip._ And she goes to the salsa clubs, so she’s familiar with the zone”

Steve looks at you with disbelief plaguing his eyes. You smile cheekily and extend your hand towards him. He grabs it and you pull him forward, making him bend over the desk and get closer to your space.

“If you saw the way they move Miami” you whisper, “you’d understand why I flee from here every chance I get”

Salsa in Cali is different from any other place you’ve been in. They move more the half down part of the body, they dance faster than others, sexier. Not for nothing they have the Cali Fair in December, where many salsa artists start their career. 

Javi clears his throat and you let go of Steve immediately, blushing. He frowns at Steve and he just sits back down in front of you, adjusting his shirt. Thank God he didn’t use suit every day, you hated when every agent wore one. The three of you stuck with jeans and t-shirts. Steve was apparently the polo shirt kind of guy, which was fine by you. Bogotá was mostly a mild weather city, but this time of the year was the worst.

“So what’s the plan again?” Javi asks. He had been distracted since you came back, and you understand why. The whole issue with Helena was not something he would forget easily, though after you helped him everything went smoother and she acquired the visa request pretty quickly. 

You extend your hands in your desk and do a show of being done with his attitude, but he knows it’s just to bother him. 

“We’re supposed to arrive and book rooms for one night.” Steve frowns, seemingly not liking that idea “the club is close, so we will have to set up the base there and communicate with you through walkie talkies. If anything goes sideways,” you point at Murphy, “you have to act the fuck up and run to save us” He chuckles.

“You make it sound so easy” Javier sighs. You wish Murphy could go with you, but unfortunately, the new Siboney Club doesn’t let any man or woman that goes alone inside, and you can’t go with him instead of Javi, he would stand out like a sore thumb. The club is not so far from the Comuna 3, and you’re guessing that has something to do with why they’re meeting there. Murphy will be 6 minutes away, so everything must be okay with him and the other soldiers as back up if anything goes wrong.

You hope it doesn’t. 

“You want some?” Javi asks as he extends you a wrapped bundle of meat empanadas. He had left to go to _Salomé_ earlier, returning with a sour look and bags of food hanging from his arms.You figured he had stumbled upon Alexander, Cata’s grandson, whom he doesn’t like one bit. He didn’t say anything but came into the room mumbling under his breath about a"stupid pretty spoiled bratt". 

“Give them to me!” You shout as you jump to grab them. Both men laugh as you move all the papers and unwrap them in your desk. You probably shouldn’t be eating there, the smell will spread all over the office and you’ll have to deal with it all day.

You stop caring as you take the first bite. Steve gives you a funny look, his eyebrow raised. Then you realize he most likely has never had one and shove the bundle towards him.

“Pick one,” you say, grinning at him. “And I assure you life will be different from now on”

He looks at you, doubtful, but grabs one nothingless. Javi stares at everything with amusement glinting in his eyes. His chest fills with warmth every time you get enthusiastic for something as simple as food. Every day he hopes you will stay that way, untainted by all the shit you have to go through in this job, and tries to take the hits himself.

As Steve takes the first bite, you can practically see sparks fly from his body, licking his lips as he represses a groan.

“This is fucking great” he says once he swallows. You pump your fist in the air.

“Of course it fucking does. It’s _Colombia_ , Murphy, live a little and try new things.”

He bows to listen to you. Javi can already picture how you’re gonna get him to try the craziest things just as you got him too. Mild jealousy invades him, but he shrugs it off.

You start eating, letting out obscene sounds at every bite you take. Heat rises from his chest and he turns around to read the reports you last wrote and check everything’s fine. He can’t concentrate though, his mind wandering to places he shouldn’t allow at every groan you make.

Steve stands up from his chair, leaning over your food and extending his hand to take another one. You bat his hand away and pull the bundle closer to you.

“Give me more!” He demands, pushing your arms away. With quick reflexes, you wrap them up again and throw them to Javi, and he catches it mid air with an amused smile playing at his lips.

“Leave my food alone!”

“You have to share!”

“Go buy your own!”

You wrap yourselves in an easy banter about food, Javi chuckling from his desk as he looks at the two of you. The way you act so loose around Steve sets him on his nerves, but he’s willing to try and accept this if it means you’ll have an easier time around here. 

“Leave her alone Murphy” he finally says, command evident in his voice. Both of you turn to look at him, and you smile as he gets uncomfortable from the power of both your stares. Despite this, he doesn’t yield.

Steve falls back into his chair without looking away. Now, Javi grabs the bag again and hands him a different bundle of empanadas.

“I figured she would want you to taste them,” he says, nonchalant. Stunned, you take your own food as he hands them back to you and returns to read the reports.

You turn to look at Murphy with your mouth open. He only smiles and winks at you.

Now he’s sure he understands what the thing between you two is about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this, please leave a comment or kudos if you did!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cali turns into a shitstorm once the show starts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This got spicy and I love every second of it, I just hope it's enough for you.  
> Wanna talk? Rant? Scream? Here is my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/mandoandyodito)

“So you came here in December then? That’s why you didn’t go to the party?”

Of all the things you could be wearing, a red swimsuit isn’t so bad in the scorching heat that Cali is going through right now. You can’t deny how sexy Javi looks lying in one of the white lounge chairs at the border of the swimming pool. His shirt is completely unbuttoned, his torso wet with sweat that you want to lick off his skin. You never thought you’d see Javier Peña wearing shorts, but here you are, wanting to rip them off his thighs. His yellow aviators are hiding his eyes from you, but you can guess he’s looking at the sky, avoiding the sight of you in a freaking red swimsuit out of all the possibilities.

You’re lying on your own cot next to his, but looking towards him. The sight is so intoxicating that you can’t bring your eyes to look away.

“Yes, I wanted to come to the Cali Fair. Back in ‘79 I couldn’t because we went to that Christmas party” your tone portrays annoyance at the memory. Javi snorts, probably because he doesn’t remember shit after getting wasted. 

“And was it fun?’ He sounds amused, his arms behind his head letting you know how relaxed he really is. You can’t wrap your head around the fact that right now, he looks like a wet dream come true.

"You can’t even imagine how much,” you say, heart warming at the memories from months before. “Celia motherfucking Cruz sang and it was raining but she didn’t give a fuck and kept going Javi!”

Your excited tone makes him turn his head towards you, a raised eyebrow showing above his glasses. He regrets this decision immediately.

Color tints his cheeks as he can’t help but ogle you from head to toe. Strands of hair are sticking to your forehead, wet with sweat, and bothering the hell out of you. Even though the swimsuit isn’t very revealing, he can see the beginning of your breasts showing, and it hugs your body in just the right places for his shorts to become tighter. Your legs are shining from the sunscreen. You’ve applied it at least 4 times and you couldn’t have been lying there for more than 2 hours. He has to restrain himself from letting his hands roam all over your body and make you moan and squirm under his.

He gulps.“It sounds like a fun time”

You sigh blissfully, unaware of the heated looks he’s giving you. “It was”, you stop for a moment, thinking. Then, “maybe you could come with me this year”

You sound hesitant and his voice decides that now is a great time to fail him. You raise your arms over your head, stretching and moaning as your back pops. He wishes you made those sounds for him, that he was the one pulling them out of your pretty mouth, not your joints. Blood rushes straight to his dick and he has to bite his lips to silence a groan. 

“M-maybe” he stutters out. That’s enough for you, as you relax back into the cot and let out a content sigh.

Steve is up at the hotel room he and Javi are sharing, as you got a room for yourself. You guess he’s talking to Connie, letting her know how things are going and reassuring her that no, he has not been ogling pretty _caleñas_. You chuckle at the thought.

“It’s so great Javi, the music is beautiful and the food is delicious. The heat stops bothering you because suddenly you’re sweating out of fun and not out of existence”

The fact that you sound so happy talking about it makes his heart flutter, and he promises to himself that he will definitely come back with you this year.

But he’s sure he can make you sweat for a better reason than even dancing.

"Do you know who’s coming this year?” He asks, trying to distract himself from his feelings. His dick is throbbing inside his clothes, and he moves his legs to relieve some tension. His heart though, his heart aches from thinking about you happy and dancing, carefree. There’s nothing he can move to relieve _that_.

“Rumor says it’ll be Héctor Lavoe!”

Javi knows you love that man, has heard you sing his songs more times than he can count. It starts to get a little annoying after the fifth time you sing 'El Cantante’, but he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

“Didn’t he sing for Pablo on New Year’s Eve?”

You nod. “He did. And they treated him like shit afterward. I was still here when that happened, and they were at Medellín”

He hums. “And I was at Bogotá, for the party”

The photos of Héctor at the Hotel Intercontinental came your way days later after the incident. You remember laughing the first time you saw them, unbelieving. Javi had come running with the pictures on his hand and had stumped them at your desk. You had wished to meet that man for years and Pablo Escobar had easily hired him. What a life.

“And how did that party go Peña?”

You’re not sure you want to know. He always ends up either wasted or fucking a beautiful woman, and you don’t like either.

“Much like last time. Bent over the toilet throwing up. The colonel went hysterical and said I was dying” his answer doesn’t really surprise you but you let out a laugh at the idea of a high-rank soldier getting freaked out over Javi throwing up.

“It’s not pretty when you’re wasted _pendejo_ ”

He frowns at you. “And how would you know? You went to sleep when I started the shots last time”

So he doesn’t remember. You huff. “Yeah, sure”

He sits up, confused. “Bera?” His voice is cautious and you turn your gaze towards the pool. 

“You didn’t let me sleep. I could hear you dry heaving at some point”

You figured it was for the best if he didn’t know you had taken care of him.

He laughs, embarrassed. “I don’t remember anything after I threw up the first time”

_Figures_. “It would have been a miracle if you did”

He shrugs as someone approaches you from beside. You look up to see Steve standing between the two of you, hair plastered to his face with sweat and the front of his shirt completely wet. He’s wearing jeans and you don’t know how he can bear it, your skin burns and you don’t have much on.

“Are we supposed to be doing this?”

You roll your eyes. How you managed to get them to relax for the day is beyond you, but at least Javi sat down and made the most of it, Steve has been moping since you arrived.

“Murph, just _shut up_ and sit down”

He frowns down to you and waves his hand. “Where am I supposed to? There is no space”

At that, you stand up and walk to the pool, feeling how a pair of eyes follow your every move. You grin, smug. “You can take my place”

When you jump into the water, it all splashes both men, and Javi feels relieved for a moment when he thinks he’s free of the torture that is seeing you and not touching you.

The relief only lasts for a few moments before you raise over the water and now your body is all _wet_ and Javi can feel how his dick starts _dripping_ pre-come like a fucking teenager.

His face goes red and warm as trickles of water run down your neck, your hair slipping through your fingers as you run your hands through it. Your breasts rise at the movement of your arms and Javi takes his hand to his mouth and _bites_ to prevent himself from moaning. He just wants to jump with you into the pool and take you right there, grip your waist and plaster your bodies together, sense how your swimsuit sticks to your body and lets him feel you almost as if you weren’t wearing anything.

Steve watches it all with amusement filling his eyes, a knowing smile forming at his lips. “Calm down Peña, she’s gonna notice if you don’t”

Javi glares at him through his glasses and takes down his hand to adjust his shorts. He’s not gonna sport a freaking boner in the middle of a pool and look like a pervert. 

Murphy sits on the lounge chair you were in and turns to Javier, intertwining his hands together. Javi hopes he at least provides a distraction from his current state. “Why do you call her Bera if that’s not her name?” _Or not_.

Javi shakes his head and smiles. “Carrillo called her berraca the first time she went with us on a raid.” Steve frowns.

“Isn’t that word despective?”

Javi sighs. “I think she should tell you the story, not me.”

You swim in the pool without paying them any attention, the muscles on your back moving and keeping you from sinking. He wonders how the night will go for both of you today. Yes, he knows how to dance but he has never danced that kind of music with someone he… _cared_ about, it was always with the girls at the parties. And he knows you’re great at it, even if he’s never seen you do it. He just hopes he won’t make a fool of himself in front of you.

Time passes, you spend all evening doing laps through the pool over and over. The sounds your arms make when you move the water lull him into a state of calm for the rest of the day, Murphy even drifts off next to him and falls asleep. Javi’s eyes never leave you.

The fact that it turns from a lust-filled stare to more of a look of adoration is something Javi decides to ignore for the time being.

As the sun starts going down and the place begins to darken, you stop swimming, pushing yourself up and out of the pool, dripping. Javi stands up immediately and runs to bring you a towel, wrapping you with it. You blush and look down. “Thank you, Javi,” you say as you grip the edges at your chest, keeping it from falling.

“You’re welcome _compañera_ ” He answers, softly. For a moment, it’s only the two of you in the hotel. He looks at you, warmth spreading through his body as he sees your eyelashes with drops in them, your hair wet and your skin hot from spending all day in the swimming pool. You feel warm to the touch, warmer than usual. And when it ignites a softer instinct in him, something deeper than just wanting to touch you for pleasure, it scares him. 

He leaves your side without another sound and walks to Murphy, slapping the back of his head. You chuckle at how Steve sits up, alarmed. 

“I’m awake! I’m awake!” He shouts, cheeks red from the heat. He moves his head around and frowns when he looks at Javier. “What the fuck man?”

You move to the side as Steve stands up, sensing his intentions. Javi doesn’t seem to notice. “Time to get ready”

Steve gets closer to him, slowly. You cover your mouth with your hands, trying to hide your grin but failing to keep a giggle from escaping. Javier frowns at you.

“What?” He says just as Steve tries to push him into the pool, but Javi manages to move away and both fall to the floor, just at the edge and shy of falling. His aviators fly away from his face and come to fall at your feet. You pick them up and put them on.

Fury covers his face when Steve stands up and gets away from him, and both you and Murphy break down laughing. With his hair plastered to his face from the heat, he looks at Steve with a murderous glare and resembles a wet cat. Needless to say, it’s hilarious.

Strong steps move him, and Steve runs to the entrance without a second thought. You double up in laughter, resting one hand at your knees and the other one keeping the towel around you. Javi can’t help chuckling at your amusement.

_“Esto te divierte?” (this funny to you?)_ he asks, and even if he tries to sound stern you can see right through it.

“ _Bastante” (very)_ you say between laughs, and he shakes his head, sprinkling you with his hair. 

Once you calm down, he gets close to you and wraps his arm around your frame, the touch sending electric shots through your skin. You don’t say anything and let yourself be led to the hotel, the sounds of water hitting the floor as you walk serving as background noise.

“I’ll see you in a few” he mutters, and you nod. He goes to his shared room with Steve as you enter yours, and the sounds of them fighting goes through the wall. You shake your head, laughing, and start to get ready for the night.

-

The circular brown dress makes a wave around your thighs as you twirl to see how it looks in the mirror, with spaghetti straps by the arms and heart shape at your chest. A black leather jacket is laid on the bed and your black stiletto heels are right beside it as if mocking you of what you’re about to endure. 

You wonder how Javi is going to dress, but you don’t expect something completely different from his usual attire. Maybe a long-sleeved shirt.

You sit down on the edge of the bed and take a deep breath, urging your heart to slow down a little. It went wild the moment you stepped out of the shower and realized what was about to happen, what you were about to go through with Javier fucking Peña of all people.

You already put your makeup on, golden eyeshadow along with black eyeliner framing and highlighting your eyes. A delicate and thin gold necklace is hanging around your neck, round earrings dangling from your ears. As you slip your shoes on and shrug the jacket into your body, you pray for the night to go as calm and successful as possible.

A knock in your door shakes you out of your thoughts, and you stand up to see who it is through the door grommet. The sight of Javi greets you, and you’re pleasantly surprised to see he combed his hair differently than his every day usual. It’s fluffier; if only he used it like that every day.

The lock of the door makes a clicking sound as you open it to greet Javi, flushing as you realize that this is the first time he’s seen you in a dress. Just as you expected, he’s wearing a three-quarter black shirt with the cuffs already folded inside out, accompanied with slightly less tight jeans than his usual attire. He left his top buttons open like always, but something is missing.

His face grows hot too as the sight of you in a freaking dress with heels and your hair let loose reach his eyes, and he suddenly feels too self-conscious, awkwardly standing outside your room like a boy who’s picking up his date for prom. He puts his hands in his pockets, looking away.

“Are you ready?” he asks, voice trembling slightly. He clears his throat and straightens, intimidating instance taking its place. 

You shrug, not affected (at least not in the way you should) by it, stretching to take his glasses from the tabletop beside the door. He takes them, nodding as he hangs them from the front of his shirt.

“Yeah, let’s go” you answer, and he lets you go outside your room to close the door behind you. Steve looms through the door and smiles at you, knowing glint shining in his eyes. 

“You look beautiful Bera,” he says. You wink at him, twirling slowly.

“Thank you, Murph”

Javi stands beside you with his hands on his hips, glaring at Steve. 

“Where are you keeping your gun?" 

His voice is strained, and you roll your eyes. How paranoid.

Your hands hike up your dress to show the hostler on your right leg to show him your Beretta 92, and both agents turn red. You huff.

"Where do you expect me to keep it?” you say, annoyed. Neither of them says anything, limiting to shaking their heads.

Javi’s Smith&Wesson is probably tucked at his back, so fuck it.

A bunch of soldiers climb up the stairs at your left and get inside Javi and Steve’s room, carrying walkie talkies and some other stuff with them. One of them throws one to Javi and he catches it mid-air, tucking it at his back pocket. You’re not sure how he’s gonna hide that, the dealers you’re going to follow may be stupid but not that stupid.

_“Tenemos que irnos ya agente” (We have to leave now agent_ ) one soldier tells Javi, and he nods, grabbing your waist and pushing you to leave. You turn towards Steve and nod at him.

“Be safe, good luck” he says, both for the mission and for what you’re about to endure.

“You too”

And you climb down the stairs, gripping the edge of your dress with your fingers and hoping everything goes well.

-

The place is packed, the line to the club rounding the corner with people waiting to be let inside. Javi put on his brown leather jacket on the way here, hiding the walkie talkie inside. You know you probably look like a cute matching couple, him with a black shirt and brown jacket and you with a black jacket and brown dress. And you didn’t even plan it.

He walks alongside you with his left arm completely wrapped around your arms, keeping you close to him. His body heat seeps through the clothes, making it harder for you to concentrate on what you’re doing. Your heels click as you approach the bouncer, fake lovesick smiles plastered at your faces.

_“Ey hermano! Cómo estás? Qué noche eh?” (Hey brother! How are you? What a night uh?)_ Javi says, charm dripping from his voice. The bouncer gives him a look over, but when he turns at you, you do your best to do all the googly eyes and shy smile at him, turning to hide your face at Javi’s neck, giggling. He grins, nodding as he opens the chain to let you in.

_“Gracias” (Thank you)_ you tell him, velvety tone leaving your mouth as you walk inside. He grins and shakes his head.

_“De nada señorita” (You’re welcome miss)_

Once inside, the amount of bodies dancing everywhere feels overwhelming even to you, and judging by how Javier tightens his grip in your shoulder, he’s not comfortable in this situation. 

Your eyes scan the place, searching for a spot where you still have the full view but more secluded. Two chairs come into vision in the far corner of the place at the edge of the bar, and you tug Javi to follow you.

Some faces you pass are familiar to you, probably from other clubs you’ve been in. You don’t pay them much attention and keep pushing your way through the crowd, Javier standing right behind you holding your hand with a bruising grip. 

You sit down on one of the chairs and pull Javi’s closer to yours, your legs intertwining as he sits down in front of you. He seems anxious, which is not a common sight.

“What’s wrong?” you ask, concerned. Your fingers caress his hand, telling yourself that you’re just playing the part. 

“This could get out of control real quick” he answers, and it’s not like he’s wrong. There’s too many people, too much noise. His head moves to search for escape routes or hiding places. There’s one at the opposite corner, the men’s room a few steps farther and the women’s room behind you, maybe two or three meters away. If anything escalates, he could throw you over the bar and jump after.

“You need to calm down” you whisper, getting closer to him and stroking his cheek. It sends shivers down his spine, the heat from the place making it difficult to breathe. 

A girl approaches you and asks if you will order anything. Javi opts for tequila and you for whiskey, and he grabs your hand and laces your fingers together. You smile sweetly at him.

“I hope you know we need to go dance at some point,” you say through your fake smile, the color draining from his face as he remembers what you have to do. He gulps.

“We don’t have many options, do we?” He answers through gritted teeth. You shake your head, agreeing with his statement.

Time passes and your jacket comes off, leaving your shoulders exposed. The place gets more and more crowded and you know it is more likely that Escobar’s men are here now. You have the faces etched in your mind, but it’s difficult to see from where you’re sitting at with so many bodies covering the view. 

Javier lets his hand fall on your leg, direct contact from skin to skin that makes desire spread from the center of your body to all of it. His thumb brushes your skin and you figure that bringing a dress wasn’t such a great idea after all. You have to bite your lip and focus on the wall behind him, soft red covering your cheeks,

The girl brings your drinks. You share a look with him and you down the drinks at once without breaking the eye contact. It burns your throat and gives you the courage you need to take his hand and pull him to the dance floor. The notes of a song you know well help you feel more secure of yourself as you walk.

_Sin tu cariño no tengo sol y me falta cielo_

_Sin tu cariño y sin tu consuelo no sé vivir_

_Si no estás cerca llega la lluvia_

_y de tristeza todo se nubla_

_Y por tu ausencia hasta se me olvida como reír_

Ruben Blades’ voice acts as an inhibitor to you and does exactly the opposite for Javi. He tenses and grips your hand harder, bodies rubbing against him as you take him to someplace close to the center. He hates being in crowded places when it’s a mission, there’s a high probability that something might go wrong and many people will get hurt.

You put an easy smile in your face, winking at every person that glances at you. Your hips move from side to side, hypnotizing some of the men that look your way. Javier groans, exasperated.

With a spin, you turn to look at him and raise your right hand to interlace it with his left hand, pulling his other arm to spread his palm at your waist. He freezes, tensing under your fingers as you hold onto his shoulder.

“Calm the fuck down Peña” you bit out through gritted teeth, “we need to appear happy and easy-going”

He glares at you but complies, loosening and smiling with fake mischief. His hand pulls you closer to him, your chests almost pressed together. Your breath gets caught in your throat.

_It’s just an act_ , you remind yourself.

With a smooth motion, he shoves you slightly to start dancing in time of the song, clutching your waist and sending shivers down your spine. His movements invite you to follow along, leading your body through the slick floor and the sea of dancing people. He’s alert, scanning every face of every single person in the room but completely aware of what is going on with his feet and your shape. He doesn’t force a single thing, instead acting as a leading figure to your steps. He knows exactly where to take you.

“Do you see them?” you ask, voice trembling slightly as he gives a complete spin. You’ve danced with a lot of people in the past few months, feeling their passion and how they completely let themselves go as they moved their hips to the rhythm. And yet, not a single one came close to how dancing with Javier feels. 

“No. You?” he shouts, pulling you closer to him and looking over your shoulder. You shake your head, wanting to close your eyes and let yourself go but knowing it would be a mistake to.

His thumb rubs at your waist and the atmosphere becomes tense, filled with arousal and excitement, uncertain of what the night might bring but ready to find a way to make it work. Your brown dress makes a circle as he spins you with his arm raised, black shirt hugging his body in all the right places that you couldn’t appreciate properly back in the hotel. The heels make a clicking sound as you return to his embrace, blue jeans contrasting beautifully with the tone of his other clothes. 

His entire body feels hot, sweat running down his neck with the amount of resistance he’s using to stop himself from grabbing you and kissing your lips right on the spot. Your perfume reaches his nose and he clenches your hand instinctively, smooth skin under his fingers sending shivers down his spine. You bite your lip as he looks at you, cheeks flushed with red. Your feet move in synchrony, moving around the room as if there were just the two of you there, floating. You’re breathless as he looks at you with lust-filled eyes, short, ragged breaths leaving his lips with every step he takes. Every dance move gets you a little higher, building your own bubble around. Your bodies nearly touch, getting closer and closer with every note of the song. He can feel your hot breath on his neck, goosebumps spreading all over his skin. He towers over you like a predator, wanting to take you right then and there and scare away all the men that dare to look at you the way only he should be allowed to. 

His movements with you are soft and delicate but not subtle in the slightest. He makes his intentions known by moving himself and inviting you to follow along, letting you know that you can be sure he knows what he’s doing. 

He moves easily around the dancefloor, completely owning every single moment and each note of the song that resonates all over the crowded place.

You move your hips closer to him, chest now against his. Your smile is seductive, inviting him to be more aggressive, to act bolder. He leads you to the mere center of the dancefloor, overshadowing other couples that may come in his way. You quickly own it, attracting all eyes towards you. Everyone can feel the tension building between you two, how you let yourself be led but still manage to give off the vibe of being the one in charge. 

Finally, the sight of the narcos come to your eyes as he spins you once more, and you realize then that you’re attracting too much attention to yourselves. There’s a slight circle formed around you, watching you dance. Some looks are filled with desire, others with jealousy from both men and women.

You squeeze Javi’s shoulder subtly as the narcos walk towards the bar, near the table you were sitting at. You get closer to his ear and move your hand to pull him towards you by his neck. 

“I see them,” you hiss as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and subtly push him towards them just as the song begins to end. He tenses again but follows your lead.

“Let’s go.” He wraps his arm around you and pushes you to the table, and you brush one of the narco’s back on your way there. He turns to look at you and smiles wantonly, dread forming at the bottom of your stomach. Still, you manage to smile and wink at him.

You sit down again, with Javi’s back towards them as he faces you. You put your jacket on, feeling exposed.

Horror covers your features as you see one of them pointing at you and muttering something to the other one. They wave the girl that served you drinks to ask her something, and his eyes harden at the answer he receives. 

“ _Oye_ ,” you manage to hear through the loud music, _“ese no es el mexicano de la DEA?” (hey, isn’t he the Mexican from the DEA?)_

Nausea invades your throat. That’s the nickname Javi had gained among the narcos, and apparently, they had recognized him. He frowns at you as he sees the color draining from your face, completely unaware of what you just heard.

Hurriedly, you grab his hand and pull him up, walking fast towards the restroom. You can hear him shouting behind you, but the blood rushing in your ears is louder than anything else at the moment.

You close the door behind you once both of you are inside, rapid breaths leaving your body as your chest rises and falls quickly.

“What the fuck Bera?” he complains, “we had them!”

You push him towards the sinks, covering his mouth. “They _recognized_ you, you fucking idiot!”

Realization downs on his face just as a new song starts blasting through the club. You can hear two heavy footsteps walking around outside the room, and you know they’re looking for you.

A heavy hand pounds against the door, startling you out of your stupor. 

_“Abran la puerta!” (open the door!)_ someone outside shouts. Javi turns to look at you, eyes wide open and in a defensive instance. 

Out of nowhere, he grabs you by the arms and pushes you up into one of the sinks, urging you to stay silent with a finger against his lips.

_“Salgan de ahí, hijos de puta!” (get out of there, motherfuckers!)_ a different voice yells. You grab Javier by the shirt and pull him towards you, making him stumble between your legs.

_Sé que tú no quieres_

_Que yo a ti te quiera_

_Siempre tú me esquivas_

_De alguna manera_

_Si te busco por aquí_

_Me sales por allá_

_Lo único que yo quiero_

_No me hagas sufrir más_

The song hits your ears with a blare, despite you being inside the bathroom with Javi. You freeze, waiting for another sound to come from outside.

His breath is hot in your neck, and he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. His hands have a strong grip, almost bruising. It makes your insides clench and your fingers grasp his shoulders with enough force to bring a hiss out of him.

Standing between your legs with his face hidden behind your hair, and you hope the sink is strong enough to hold your weight for a little bit longer.

'Are they gone?’ he asks, voice tight.

“I don’t think so” you answer.

You sound breathless, excited. You remind yourself this is supposed to be an act, you’re on a mission, but with Javi so close to you, so close to your core, your mind easily becomes cloudy.

The light is shitty, doesn’t let you see much farther than the wall with graffiti in front of you. There are swear words, lyrics, even drawings. 

You don’t comment on the hardness that’s digging into your wetness through your clothes. You blame it on the rush of adrenaline that both of you are experiencing because of the situation.

Wearing a dress was a great idea after all.

He lets out a huff and buries his face deeper into your neck. 

“Moan” he orders.

You do as he says, not entirely faking it but doing it loud enough for it to be heard over the music and through the door. If you stay this way for more than a few minutes, you’ll combust. 

His lips are pursed together, you can feel it in your skin. Javi starts grinding against you, his groans sounding completely real. One of your hands grip his back, scraping your fingers across it, whimpering. You know your sounds aren’t fake. Your other hand comes down to your gun, getting off the safety, and putting your finger on the trigger.

Another blow hits the door, but this time no one shouts.

Javier’s stance changes into something more aggressive, getting ready to fight in any second. His arm starts pushing you slightly as if to throw you to the floor, but nothing happens.

Finally, footsteps can be heard getting far from your hiding place, and you let out a relieved sigh. 

_And what now?_

A few tense moments pass, neither of you making a move of changing positions. 

Javi’s radio makes a creaking sound just then, and he straightens and pulls away from you to answer it, taking it out of his jacket.

_“Qué pasó?”(what happened?)_ he asks, voice tense and angry. 

_“Acabamos de ver salir a los narcos saliendo del lugar. Vamos a seguirlos,” (we just saw the narcos get out of the place. We’re going to follow them)_ a voice says through the radio signal.

_“Bien, vamos para allá.” (okay, we’re on our way)_ he presses the button to end the communication and tucks it inside his jacket again.

Without a word, he grabs you and pulls you off the sink, then tucking his gun out of his pants and loading it. He doesn’t even so much as glance at you, nodding towards the exit with his hands pointing to the floor, completely enveloped in the DEA agent part.

Hurt nestles in your chest as you see him go, your eyes piercing his back as you grab your own firearm and walk behind him. No one seems to notice the two people walking through the club with guns in his hands, too involved in their dancing and laughing. There are many couples touching each other, heat in their stares as they move through the dancefloor, and roam the other’s body with passion controlling their movements.

You wonder briefly if that’s how Javier and you looked just a few minutes ago, the thought feeling like a stab right to the heart and filling your eyes with tears that you quickly wipe away.

And as you get out of the place shouting and running to where the narcos supposedly went and ultimately catching them, the usual sense of satisfaction that comes with succeeding in a mission is absent and sadness and pain overwhelms your body, ending the night with a void at the bottom of your stomach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment or kudo if you enjoyed this!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens after Cali? How will things with Javier go?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHEW, this is a very long one. I hope you enjoy it, feel free to message me on Tumblr if you wanna rant about anything!  
> (@mandoandyodito is my username, I'm too lazy to put the link rn)

The air of Colombia in the morning feels great after a night of fun with Javi. There are parts of your body that haven’t been sore in a while, not since you went to México two years ago at least. The picture from that trip on the bedside table in your room makes waking up easier.

Your feet make noise as you walk without shoes to the kitchen, finding the sight of Javier shirtless very pleasing. His plaid pants are hanging low on his hips as he hums a tune that sounds a lot like Aerosmith.

His ring glints as he moves his left hand to mix the eggs at the stove, sunlight illuminating him in a way that should be considered as a form of art. His watch looks blurry to you, but you don’t pay too much attention to it.

Sleepy, you wrap your arms around his waist and squeeze.

‘Why did you get up?“ You ask, groggy and warm from the bed. He chuckles.

"Someone has to keep us fed around here”

His voice is rough from sleep too, so he probably hasn’t been awake too long either. His hips start swaying to the imaginary music that must be playing inside his head, moving you along with him. His skin is so warm against yours it makes you relax against him, giving him little kisses on his back.

You turn your head to look at the living room. The newspaper that’s on the table has a bloody picture with a big headline that you can’t read. It makes you frown. Maybe you will have to get a pair of glasses soon.

Everything feels warm, safe. Javier presses back against you, sighing deeply. You smile.

Your eyes look to the side and see a shadow moving. Not even a second after, you draw in a startled breath and a ray of sunlight glints off a knife. You pull Javi against you to get him out of the way, but not being fast enough, the blade slices through his chest. You feel the force of the stab through his body, pushing you back when a cry of pain leaves his lips and his body hits the floor when you can’t take his weight.

Kneeling, you frantically move your hand to grab at the gun under the table, but it isn’t there. When you turn to see who may have taken it, there’s no one but the two of you in the room.

Or rather, there’s only you in the room. Javier is too still, his chest isn’t raising and falling from breathing. His brown eyes are lifeless as they look up to the ceiling.

You kneel down in front of him, gripping his shoulders and palming his chest, getting your hands soaked with blood. You can’t stop the sob that tears out of you. 

“Javier!” you scream. “Javier, wake up!”

Red hands glint when you look down. His eyes don’t shine anymore.

“You promised” you wail, left alone in the room, with a lifeless body in front of you. 

Your body bolts up in your bed, gasping for the hundredth time in the past two weeks and covered in a cold sweat. The rise and fall of your chest feel too quick to be real, even after so many past experiences. The room is filled with moonlight seeping through the white curtains that cover your window. For some reason, it makes your heart ache more.

Pain is universal. Some people feel it down their stomach, with a knot that pulls and contracts at every thought that brings something you don’t want to remember or think about. Some others feel it in their chest, something swelling and constricting every breath they take, aching right at the center. Some feel it in their throats, pain and anger clogging their pipe, teary eyes, and swollen face is commonly found those times too. 

The kind of pain you’re feeling right now seems to include all of them.

Once again, the bed is empty, and the vague memories of the dream you just had start to mix with every other you’ve had in 15 days. They are always variations of the same thing, always leave you hopeless and scared. The tears stream down your face once again, increasing the fear that has been clogging your system since everything that happened in Cali. 

The most horrible part of everything is that you’re not sure what’s worse, dreaming of Javi dying in different ways every night or the knowledge that every single one is possible and you can’t do anything about it. 

_A ella no la tocamos mexicanito, one narco had said. A ella no la tocamos, pero a vos sí. (We don’t mess with her, little Mexican, we don’t mess with her but we mess with you)_

They had been saying rude comments about you all night instead of answering your questions, but Javi finally snapped when the one nicknamed Jarrogrande told you to give him ” _cacho mami, que uste’ se ve que es bien conchuda" (a chance, you look like you’re shameless)_ and smashed his head against the table. Both of them realized that what was happening was for real, and started talking. Ironic how every single narco seemed to brag about loyalty but ended up talking when their skin was in the line.

The words of Mosca, the other one, rang in your ears for the rest of the night and stuck in your head to the point of giving you nightmares all these days. You had no clue what he had meant, neither did Javi or Steve. Even after hours of interrogation, spilling about the recruitment of young boys they had been doing in the Comuna 3, not one word of explanation had left their mouths about it. 

It made you uneasy, so much that the idea of sleeping was almost scary by this point, even though you always ended up falling asleep no matter how much coffee you drank and how much you tried to stay awake reading. 

No human should go through this and yet here you are, crying repeatedly over the visual of Javier getting stabbed this time, less perturbed than with the last dream where he flew through the air after being hit by a car several times. And not once, not even the first time, could you have done anything about it. And if you can’t do anything about it in your own dreams, what would happen in real life?

The worst one yet had been one where you both were sleeping together and someone broke into your apartment, shooting him right next to you. And you couldn’t do anything, just lay there and watch how life slipped away from his brown eyes as his body went limp.

You turn around to the bedside clock. It reads 5:03 A.M.

Tired from a night full of restless sleep, you move your legs over the bed and stand up, rubbing your eyes and wiping the tears from your face. Barefoot, you make your way to the shower and strip your clothes off. A short and a tank top are the only things you can handle at night, the humidity seems to skyrocket as soon as the sun goes down. It should get more fresh, for fuck’s sake.

Pulling the curtain to the side, you open the shower and step inside, letting the water wash away the sweat and discomfort that the 15th night in a row tormented with nightmares left you. 

-

“Is everything okay?”

Steve’s voice makes you jump as you attempt to read reports in your desk, uselessly. The lack of sleep is finally starting to take its toll, all day you’ve been nodding off. 

The fact that Javier is avoiding you like the plague doesn’t help at all.

“Yeah,” you answer, “just tired.”

He frowns at you from his brand new desk across yours. Stacks of paper fill it completely, manila folders in every space available. The smoke of his and Javi’s cigarettes go directly at your zone, and seeing how he smokes just as much as Javi makes you wonder how he managed to control himself when he was working at your table.

“You don’t look just tired”

Rolling your eyes, you turn to Javi’s desk, where he’s completely buried in studying a map of Cali spread above his mess. The barrio zone in Carrera 8 is underlined with a red marker as he traces the path you followed the narcos after the club. You clear your throat, hoping to get his attention. 

He grunts without turning to look at you. The blue shirt he’s wearing today makes his skin glow in a way that makes your hands itch to touch. You swallow the lump in your throat.

“Do you need help?” you ask, sounding much more composed than you feel. Surprisingly, he nods and gestures for you to come close, signaling somewhere in the map.

“Can you remember where we followed them to?”

Distracted, you roam the paper with your eyes and point at where you think they went.

“I know it’s right where Carrera 8 crosses the Alfonso López Bridge, but I can’t tell you exactly where that is in the map”

His face lights up slightly at the mention of the bridge, bringing his hand up to draw a circle at an intersection you had failed to see. He bows his head at you subtly.

“Thanks”

“No problem”

The interaction feels so awkward and forced that your instinct is activating the urge to either say something or run away. You’re more inclined to do the later but end up doing neither as you return to your desk. You can feel Steve’s piercing look right on your skull. 

Even the air feels too heavy to breathe. It had never been like that, not even in your first days at the office or worst fights. Javi always tried to fix it by buying you food or cracking a joke to ease the tension, never really addressing what started the fight.

Maybe that’s the problem, you’re not used to communicating verbally and this isn’t something you just shrug off.

And if it wasn’t enough, you’re sure Javi has also realized your poor state caused by lack of sleep. Every time you try to make coffee, he drinks it all and doesn’t leave any to you, he stays with Steve at the office until they make sure you’ll leave, and when he thinks you’re not looking, he gives you side glances with a concerned expression you had only seen the first time after your first raid in Bogotá. He knows something’s wrong, he’s just not sure what.

“Bera,” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your thoughts, “aren’t you hungry?”

You’re surprised to feel a void in your stomach at his mention, realizing that yes, you are hungry.

You nod, cocking your head to one side as you look at him. 

Just then Javi straightens and grabs his jacket without saying anything, not even turning to look at neither of you. A lump in your throat makes itself present once again when logic tells you where he must be going at this specific hour.

“Where are you going?” Steve dares to ask. Javi keeps walking.

“Out”

You confirm your thoughts when he puts his hand inside his pocket as if checking for something to be inside.

Your eyes burn as he walks away and climbs up the stairs. Something grips your chest tight, makes your stomach clench, and your temperature rise. 

You shouldn’t feel like that, it’s not like Javi is doing something wrong. You’re not together, he’s not cheating on you.

You just wish your heart agreed.

Murphy’s voice breaks you out of your pain.

“Here,” he gestures for you to get closer as he takes out a big recipient from under his desk and opens it, a wonderful smell of food that floods your senses and eases the ache in your heart a little. Then he pulls out another one and serves some food inside.

You stand up and pull your chair towards him, sitting in front of his desk and moving the folders just enough to leave space to eat. He hands you a spoon and the second recipient, but it feels close to being offered a hug, a sense that you’re not alone, that he understands. 

“Connie is trying to learn traditional dishes,” he offers as an explanation, smiling sheepishly. You take a bite and moan, marveling at the taste of Bogotá meatloaf.

“Well she’s doing great”

You eat in comfortable silence for a few seconds, afraid of mentioning what you both know about Javier’s absence. 

You realize Steve is itching to tell you something, so you try to show as much openness as possible. He seems to catch on it, so he swallows and clears his throat. 

“Why do they call you Bera?” he, after so many days of wanting to and not doing it, finally asks. But doesn’t dare to look at you while he does. 

“It’s a long story,” you answer, smiling at the soft tone he uses. 

“I think we’ve got time” 

You take a deep breath and sit back in your chair, with your legs crossed and the plastic container resting on top.

“On my first week,” you start, “we had one of the most important raids there has been in the past two years”

“The one where you found one of Escobar’s hideouts?” he interrupts, looking at you expectantly. You nod, chuckling when he takes a mouthful of food and urges you to continue.

“I met Carrillo, and he wanted to boss me around as if I were one of his soldiers. Javier wasn’t too happy about it but didn’t say anything. We are in his country, after all”

“He can be an asshole, uh?” Steve mutters. You’re not sure who he’s talking about, but either way, it’s true, just in different levels and senses.

“When he realized I wasn’t going to let him, he called me _berraca_. I slapped him because I thought he meant it offensively, but it turned out to be a compliment.“ Steve arches one eyebrow at that. "He then clarified he had called me berraca with b and not with v while he rubbed his cheek,” you say, smiling at the memory. His skin had been so red you feared it would stay like that for a while. If you had hit him a little to the left, his lip would have probably split open.

“What’s the difference?” he asks, confused. 

“ _Verraca_ with v means stallion pig. _Berraca_ with b can mean many many things, but one of them is brave.”

Steve nods, pursing his lips, with narrow eyes as if he was studying something. "Well, he’s right.”

You smile, pleased that he agrees with it.

“It just morphed to Bera as a way of making fun of gringos,” you finish. “You can’t pronounce the hard r, so you say beraca instead of berraca. Javi started calling me Bera as a joke and it stuck.”

Something inside Steve’s mind goes quiet with the new knowledge. He can barely talk in Spanish, maybe he understands it a little better. But he’s sure he would use that word to describe you too. It fits.

But now that he thinks of it, Javier and Carrillo say it in different tones, something he hadn’t been conscious about before.

Carrillo says it like a challenge. As if he’s waiting for you to react, to attack. Something bugs Steve in the way the colonel spits it out of his mouth, almost afraid of something everyone else is unaware of but prepared to take on it.

Javier, instead, says it like a prayer. His eyes sparkle and the corners of his lips rise slightly, amused but with something soft on his face. And it’s not like he’s not always like that around you because he is, he’s less frowny and, dare Steve say, less of an asshole when you’re close. He almost becomes nice. But when he calls you that, there is also admiration brightening his skin, shining in his eyes, beyond anything else he most likely feels when he looks at you.

He would have loved a warning before getting inside this mess though.

One of the things that has stuck with him since he arrived was the time both you and Javier left to meet one of your informants and when you came back, Javier was nursing a bruise on his face and others on his knuckles, fuming. You looked at him with such annoyance but wonder simultaneously that it gave Steve whiplash.

When one of the other agents in the office got close to Murphy and explained that that specific informant was always too sassy, especially with you, he understood why Javier came back like that. 

“He’s very protective in general,” the way the other agent had muttered it let him know Javier didn’t like any talk about it, “but there is always something worse than Hell coming for anyone who messes with her.”

It sounded like a cheesy movie, and Steve knew you hated it when either of them tried to protect you, but he could see it was the truth. 

He doesn’t understand how you haven’t gotten together though, it just seems too irrational not to. If Javier doesn’t care about the rule of no relationships with informants, why would he care about the rule that also prohibits them between co-workers?

The phone rings suddenly when he starts to get deeper in thought, making both of you jump. Steve picks it up, frowning.

You start to worry when his face goes white and his back straightens, motioning you to give him something to write on.

He answers affirmatively a couple of times while he writes something on top of the sheet of paper you gave him, hurriedly. When he hangs up, the stare he gives you worries you even more.

“Javier just found a hideout.” You freeze at his words. “He called from a public phone and said he needed backup because someone most likely identified him.”

Your blood starts pumping so loud in your ears they feel like they’re going to explode. Your chest feels tight, making breathing harder, and blurring your sight.

Something inside your head whispers that this is going to end just like your nightmares, that you’re going to lose him and never get to tell him everything you want. Javier is going to die, and you’re too far to do anything about it.

Panic starts to cover your whole body when Steve’s hand touches your arm and pulls, forcing you to look at him.

"We gotta be quick! Move!”

His tone orders your body to do as he says, picking up your gun and tucking it behind your pants. Steve does the same while screaming to the rest in the office, ordering around, and putting everything in motion. You can’t understand what they’re saying, but soon someone is shoving a bulletproof vest for you to put on, and you quickly do it. Instinctively, you pull one from somebody’s hands and hold it tight, thinking of Javier. 

All of you run outside to the cars and Steve starts driving like a maniac towards the address that Javier told him. He hands you the built-in radio between your seats and you start shouting orders to anyone who might be hearing on the line. 

The way the car moves makes your body shake.

Or maybe it’s the fear, you’re not really sure.

You close your eyes and try to evocate Javier’s voice reading to you, a few weeks back. 

_Era en verdad una aldea feliz, donde nadie era mayor de treinta años y donde nadie había muerto. (It was a truly happy village, where no one was over thirty years of age and where no one had died)_

 _Please stay safe Javier,_ you thought. _Please don’t do anything stupid until I get there._

Adrenaline starts pumping through your veins like a freight train, shutting down anything else you might be feeling.

In some weird, twisted joke of life, many moments you spent with Javier start to pass in front of your eyes. Back in 1980, when you had gone to the cinema to break away from the depressive aura of the office. The first time you ate in Salomé. When he, for the first and last time, went to your apartment and you had watched Rocky while making fun of Stallone’s voice. At Christmas, when he gifted you a tape for your Walkman. The way his eyes had glinted when you had given him a special edition vinyl of Led Zeppelin IV.

It hurts, to think about all that and know you may never live any of it again after this.

When Steve hits the brakes with no warning, you immediately wrench the door open and kneel behind it, pointing in front of you through the window in case someone shoots.

There are four military Jeeps behind you, with soldiers quickly jumping down from them and forming lines around the zone. Their colonel signals them to move forward.

Something gives you a bad feeling, everything is too quiet, too still. There are not even people walking around in their normal day, the streets are completely deserted.

You can hear your heavy breathing, sweat dripping down your back as you look for any signs of movement.

A gun gets reloaded somewhere to your left, and it takes you a second to turn around and point at where the sound came from when someone else shoots them first.

This gives the narcos the distraction they needed. Guns start to fire in time someone yells at your team to get cover, bullets ricocheting from the cars, and breaking the windows to pieces.

From the corner of your eye, you see Javi’s back as he hides in one of the alleys, soaked in sweat. He’s breathing so hard you can even hear it over the blood that’s pumping on your ears. He seems unharmed though, there are no spots of blood on his clothes.

In a stupid decision to try and keep him that way, you scream his name, making him turn to look at you.

His eyes almost bulge out of his skull as he sees how carelessly you are acting by giving away your position, but without a second thought, he starts to run towards you, his gun gripped tight on his hand and moving with such urgency it makes you anxious. 

Once he gets next to you and kneels beside you, you lose all words. He’s safe, he’s next to you, healthy y uninjured. Around you, there’s shouting, followed by gunfires. None of it matters for a second.

Your brain reminds you of the bulletproof vest you brought for him when you look down and see he lost his jacket at some point, so you turn to grab it and give it to him. He seems incredulous, you don’t really understand why.

“Just put it on,” your voice leaves no space for arguing. He nods, strapping it quickly while you cover any shot that may get you. 

Both of you stand up, pointing in front of your bodies as you walk towards the sudden line of cars that are on the other side of the street.

Even if they wanted, there’s no way they’re getting out of this. You have them at least five to one, with far more weapons and advantage.

Again, something doesn’t seem right. It’s too stupid, a mistake that is too careless and idiotic for them to make it without any other intentions.

You stop breathing when, by chance, you get a glimpse of Escobar’s hair in the backseat of a blue Sedan.

He feels your stare, turns to look at you, and grins. Your whole body freezes, with your fingers stiff on your gun.

All air leaves your lungs and the blood from your face drains.

The way he smiles, with a familiarity you don’t know where it comes from, makes a shiver run down your spine.

Javi feels it, turning to look at you briefly and ask what’s wrong when suddenly, Escobar gives an order you can’t hear to one of his men and he starts to walk directly towards you in the middle of the chaos.

Javier reacts immediately. He pushes you behind him, recharging his gun and firing at the same time as the other man.

Everything happens in slow motion.

Both of them fire twice before anything else happens. Javi gets two shots right in the middle of the other’s chest, but the man gets two on his chest too.

Blood starts to spread over the man’s shirt, red and bubbling quickly. No one pays attention to him as they keep shooting and shouting, the blue Sedan leaving without anyone but you noticing what just happened. Escobar shouts something for you to hear, but you’re too distracted to pay attention. 

Panic rises in your throat when the impact knocks Javier back, making him give a short yell when he instinctively moves his hand to grab at his chest. You move fast to cushion his fall, stopping him from hitting the floor too hard.

Tears flood your eyes as you frenéticamente move your hands to assess the damage when Javi’s hands grab yours and stop you.

“I’m okay,” he mutters, but there’s pain in his voice. He tries to smile at you but fails, wincing. The way his grip tightens around your fingers bring your brain back a little to reality, and you realize there’s no blood on his body.

The vest.

A relieved sob leaves your mouth when you realize the worst he can have is a few cracked ribs. You thank past you for thinking of bringing that heavy horrible thing with you.

Around you, everything starts to die down when the few narcos that aren’t injured or dead climb in their cars and run away. There are just three injured soldiers from your side, and it’s nothing fatal.

Steve comes out of nowhere and kneels down next to you, speaking words that come silent to your eyes.

You and Javier look at each other, with fear and relief and anger all mixed together in your eyes. The love he sees in your eyes shatters him, makes the pain in his chest feel sharper. 

Neither of you says anything as Steve helps him stand up so you can take him to get checked up, but he never looks away from you. Your friend is amazed at how quickly Javi can change from completely aggressive to absolute tenderness in just a few seconds. 

But when it’s about you, he knows both feelings come from the same place.

You don’t say a word on the trip to the hospital, but all the way both of you are gripping the other’s hand as if your lives depend on it.

Maybe they do.

Your body feels like you just went into shock. None of anything that happened feels real, anything but Javier’s touch seems fake. He’s shaking against you, and that’s not common at all. His leg is jumping from the adrenaline in a way that would be funny if it wasn’t because he almost died a few minutes ago.

He plants a kiss on your head, gripping your fingers tighter. 

The sun is in your eyes when the car starts heading down another street. You start to crash, leaning your head on his shoulder as a deep male voice sings from the radio.

He wishes he could rest with you too, but something is bothering Javier.

He heard what Escobar shouted at you.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Javi thinks about what led you both here, and worries about what Escobar said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> well here it is! I hope you enjoy it. I wrote another part before this one that has, mmm, smut, I'll post it but I'm not sure when, keep an eye out. Also, I changed some things shown in the series a little bit, but nothing major. Thank you for reading!

If you were to ask Javier what his craziest years have been, he wouldn’t even hesitate to tell you with certain fondness in his eyes, that both 1979 and 1980 were close to his breaking point.

When he arrived in Colombia in the early 70's, he didn't expect to get so attached to the land, to the people. Often, he came off as an asshole who was only there to do his job and fuck his way through Colombia. And usually, he had no problem with portraying that facade. It made everything easier, no one tried to mess with him or get close. He could sit silently on his desk and smoke as much as he wanted for as long as he desired, no one but the big bosses would mess with him. He was always in his own world.

The real world though, felt like it was falling apart every day, without thinking about stopping or at least slowing down. Javier always felt like he had to put it back together, which was ironic because if he wasn’t able to keep himself together, how much could he do for the world?

Everything had a dual perspective for him since the day he arrived. Knowing two languages gives you a certain advantage that changes slightly the way you see things. Sometimes the differences were strikingly wide, and sometimes he couldn’t tell the two apart. The way foreigners saw things was colder, insensitive. The locals felt things, mourned, and thought more about the people than politics.

Javier was always torn between the two. He was a foreigner but always tried his best to not act like one. That didn't stop him from fucking up greatly multiple times though.

Once, while he's looking at some pictures of a roadhouse, the sound of the Ambassador arguing with someone over the phone reaches his ears.

'And what the hell am I supposed to do with a girl who's mom is FBI? I have enough petulant bullshit to deal with Javier here"

That makes him frown. Is he really that annoying?

"I don't give a fuck if she was the best of her class, I don't need more agents."

It's not usual to hear the Ambassador swear, so Javier knows it must be something that really bothers her if she's so angry.

Trying not to alert anyone else about it, he sits more straight and leans his head slightly towards the Ambassador's office, trying to hear better.

"If you're gonna send her anyways, why the fuck did you bother to call me then?" There's a short pause. "Well thanks for the courtesy between agents, it's no fucking help. Goodbye."

Silence settles over the office again after that, and Javier didn't find out much anyways so he doesn't dwell on it and keeps reading about the new Narco that's growing quickly over México, with base in Nuevo Laredo. Something about it tells him it’s tied to Escobar in some way.

Days later, he finds out he's going to have a new partner. 

He doesn't care too much either. His partners always run away after some months. No one can handle this war for too long, and he's not sure how he's pulling through it. It weighs heavy on his shoulders. It makes him wake up sweaty from a nightmare, scares any kind of hunger away, reminds him why he should never get attached to anyone everyday. And still, he's doing much better than the people he's supposed to be helping. Several times he feels close to losing hope, to giving up. Every morning he wakes up, looks at the mirror and wonders what he's doing, why he's doing it. He's breaking, falling down, giving up. He wants to run away but it feels like betrayal, to just drop everything and go back to Texas as if nothing happened. He wants to, but knows he won't be able to live without guilt every day of his life. 

The guilt, the sorrow, everything is suffocating him. There's not a day when fresh air fills his lungs, the gun tucked inside his jeans feels like it weighs a ton and nothing makes sense anymore. He's working on autopilot.

And then you arrive. That pretty, smart girl from the Ventura HQ of the DEA, top of her class, arrives and twists his entire life.

You, with your bright eyes and your bright smile and your love for life. With amazement showing in your features when you look at the city once he takes you to a viewpoint. You, with the little sounds of pleasure you make when you're eating something he bought for you to taste. With the addiction you have for dancing he knows came from your close relationship with your father. You, with your giggles and your little screams when he takes you to see The Shining.

You, with the love for little things he has never felt before.

And he's not a man who cares about many things, if he's being honest. He didn't know how overwhelming love feels, how it changes the way you see life once the sensation of pure ecstasy and happiness fills you and pumps through your veins.

But, once, as you both read through the reports of other agents after a raid, he stops for a second and turns to look at you.

And fuck if what he feels in that moment doesn't scare him shitless. 

It's not even a special moment. You're just frowning and circling a lot of things with a pink marker as you huff. But you manage to look like something his imagination would create to try and pull him out of self pity while doing so, tired from hours of nonstop working but still shining like a star, as marvelous as a work of art. Maybe something beyond that, something he doesn’t have a word for. He knows you're real because someone as dark and twisted as him could never create something as astonishing and beautiful as you.

He shouldn't feel anything, he knows it's a stupid decision to pay attention to the feeling inside his chest.

But he does, he pays attention, and it's whispering  _ this is how love feels. This is what you've been missing.  _

Needless to say, it takes his breath away.

He falls in love.

He falls in love, without brakes or any kind of control that could stop him from doing so. He lets himself fall in love, embraces it but doesn't do anything about it. He yearns, he aches. He cries sometimes. He laughs others. He gets drunk and sings the songs the guys at Texas used to play when he still was the Deputy there. He still can’t sleep, but now there are entirely different reasons behind it. 

Sometimes, when he feels really good and he has a good day, he indulges in domestic fantasies that he knows won’t ever happen because he most likely won’t make it out alive from this mess. If the probability was small before, now that he has someone to lose and therefore protect, the probability is practically non-existent.

No, he doesn't do anything about it, but he refuses to let go of the feeling. It helped him see there are still things worth living and fighting for, after all.

And it comes to bite him in the ass when he hears Escobar shout _"me saludas a tu papi"_ _(say hello to your daddy for me)_ at you when he almost dies just after days of tension between you two, after he fucked up in Cali.

Why did he have to fuck up in Cali, of all places? Couldn't he fuck up in Medellín?

Then he fucks up a little more. In for a penny, in for a pound.

"Have you ever been in love before?"

Asking those words after what you've just done seems out of place. Asking the man you just fucked through the mattress if he knows about love comes as almost rude, but aren't nights supposed to be for this kinda thing?

Javier shakes his head. "No, I don't think so." he answers, voice low and tired. "I was gonna get married, but I don't think I loved her"

You prop into your elbow, turning to look at him. "What happened?"

He closes his eyes and takes a drag from his Marlboro. "She told me she was pregnant just to tie me to her. The day before the wedding, she called me," his voice turns bitter and somewhat disappointed, "and said she had gotten her period. I fled from there and drove without stopping for fear of her brothers following me."

You know who he’s talking about. Lorraine isn't someone he talks about much, but when he does it's never with a good tone, though never anything rude. Javi isn't much of talking anyways.

You nod and plop back to the bed. Silence fills the room again, hot and foggy from the sweat you worked up to with your activities.

This is a bad idea, you know it. Fucking and not actualy having a settled relationship is maybe the worst decision you've made with Javi, and the talks that always follow just make everything worse.

He lets out all the sounds he wants to, and you're sure he's not like that with other women. He's a sentimental man, sure, but he's too scared to let someone he doesn't know get too close, even if he aches for that kind of attention. He communicates a thousand things by touch, things that make you ask yourself if they're real or you're only making everything up, too hopeful. You figure he feels safe in  _ your  _ embrace, thinking it's worth risking your working dynamic and your friendship by your actions.

You're happy to provide it, no problem. You just wonder how long will it last before you break or one of you gets hurt.

You cannot bring yourself to care enough to stop. 

"What about you?" He asks. Summers in México come to mind, along with days of the training in Ventura and parties in California, different names popping up. None of them make you feel quite as Javier always does with a glance.

"I don't think so either" you answer honestly, "not that I can remember, at least"

He shrugs. "If you can't remember any, then there isn't any. Love is not something you can forget about."

Javi also tends to become slightly poetic after a good fuck and a cigarette.

His ribs are still a little bit bruised from the gunshots of a few days ago, purple spots covering his waist and his chest. And you don’t like to think back to that day, it still haunts you. But every time you and Javi fucked in between that day and today, you have to ball your hands into fists and clench your teeth to stop your tears from falling. You have to remind yourself it’s just sex. Yes, you agreed to be exclusive but in no other way could you be considered a couple. Besides, relationships between agents are forbidden.

(Not that it would stop you, but still)

“And have you ever wanted to be in love?” 

Javier frowns at the ceiling. 

“I don’t think we have much of a choice when love comes our way. Either you fall in love and suffer, or you fall in love and embrace it.”

If he only knew.

“Bera,” the Ambassador’s voice comes from her office with too much volume. It makes you jump slightly. “Come here.”

Javier and Steve both turn to look at you, the question marks in their eyes are evident to you. You stand up, as clueless as them when you walk to the door.

Once inside, she gestures you to take a seat in one of the chairs in front of the desk. It feels like coming to the principal’s office as a little kid who got in trouble.

She just stares at you for a few seconds, not saying anything.

That’s never a good sign.

The silence becomes heavy, and you have to push down the urge to squirm under her stare. Once she speaks, you wish she hadn’t.

“Are you sure about what you’re doing?”

She doesn’t even have to say it aloud for you to understand what she’s talking about.

Fuck, is it really that obvious? You and Javier don’t even act different in front of anyone. There’s not even a big change to begin with. It 's just sex. You’re not staring lovingly at each other’s eyes or playing footsie under the desk, Javier even stopped buying food for you alone, now you have to share with him. 

You take a deep breath, torn between feigning ignorance or acknowledging the situation with as much dignity as possible.

She doesn’t even give you time to think.

“Don’t even try to act like you don’t know what I’m talking about, I’m old, I’ve seen some stuff and you can’t play dumb with me.”

Well, there goes that.

“Can I ask something first?”

That surprises her. She breaks from the intimidating posture from before and leans back on her chair, nodding.

“How did you notice?”

She laughs, interlacing her fingers in front of her and looking at you with amusement in her eyes.

“Honey, I noticed even before anything happened. You two are obvious as hell. Even a blind person could notice it by staying two minutes inside the same room as you.”

That doesn’t make any sense. Before Cali, even before Seve, you were never sure about Javier’s feelings. You knew he wasn’t indifferent to you, but with the way he carries himself around, it’s difficult to figure out if what he’s showing is really what he’s feeling.

You decide against saying anything else and nod. She sighs, shaking her head as she looks at you. 

“I just hope you don’t regret it later.”

Well, you’re right there with her on that one.

She ushers you outside and you quickly stand up, forcing your legs to work at a normal pace and not run away like your brain urges them to. 

Just as you’re about to get out of the office, you hear her speak again, but the words are not meant for you to hear.

“I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna kill him and then bring him back to life just to cut his balls off if he ever hurts her.”

You cover your mouth to stop the giggle from escaping, and walk to your desk with a smile on your face.

Javi arches his eyebrow at you. “Everything okay?”

You bite your lip. “Yeah, everything’s great.”

He smiles at you and winks. You chuckle, shaking your head and turning to read the reports you have to deliver that day. Most likely than not, you’ll have to say late to finish. Javier too, just like the day before yesterday.

Blood runs hot down your body as you remember. It had been an amazing night. Javi’s desk has a crack on the edge to prove it.

Realization hits you.

Oh God, so that’s why she noticed.


End file.
